#He's refusing to use his saber like an idiot

[brainrotparsecsaway]

What is this? I'm consepting a possible fight between Quasar and Gurmenas?

Nooo it couldn't be

[pablogavisgirl]

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

read part eight ➸ here

Càdiz, España

"Pablo." You whispered. "¿Qué estás haciendo aquí? No puedes estar aquí, tienes que irte". You panicked. (What are you doing here? You can't be here you need to go.)

"Amor? ¿Quién está en la puerta? ¿Son Bella y Tania?" Leo shouted from the couch catching Gavi's attention, the smoke practically coming out of his ears. (Who's at the door? Is it Bella and Tania?)

"No bebe, es el vecino que estaba pidiendo... azúcar". You shouted back awkwardly laughing looking back at Gavi. "Por favor, Pablo, tienes que irte". (No bebe its the neighbor who was asking for...sugar. Please Pablo you have to go.)

"No me iré hasta que me des respuestas". Gavi demanded. (No i'm not leaving till you give me answers.)

"Pablito, por favor, si me amas como dices que lo haces, te irías, por favor, como mi mejor amigo, por favor, haz esto una vez por mí". You begged, giving him a pout knowing he couldn't refuse you. (Pablito, please if you love me like you say you do you would leave please as my bestfriend please just do this once thing for me.)

"No me hables de amor, el amor es la razón por la que estoy aquí, he estado tan preocupado, todo lo que hiciste fue enviarme un mensaje sin siquiera decirme a dónde ibas, ¿sabes lo preocupado que he estado?" His voice began to rise the anger was radiating off of him. He waited five months to know something about you, and now that he did you had a boyfriend and refused to speak to him. (Don't talk to me about love, love is why I'm here I've been so worried all you did was send me a message not even telling me where you were going do you know how worried I've been?)

"¿De verdad quieres un poco de azúcar hu- Pablo Gavi?!" Leo stopped mid sentence seeing Barcelona's midfielder standing infront of his girlfriends doorstep. "¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?" He asked still amazed at such a big fútbol star in front of him. (You really want some sugar hu- Pablo Gavi? What are you doing here?)

"Tratando que tu novia me diga la verdad". He starred directly at you, not paying attention to Leo's presence. (Trying to get your girlfriend to tell me the truth.)

"Que?" Leo laughed.

"Él no lo sabe, ¿eh?" Gavi laughed. "¿No sabe que hace solo un par de meses confesaste tu amor por mí?" He scoffed. (He doesn't know huh? He doesn't know that only a couple months ago you confessed your love for me?)

"Pablo para." You warned. (Pablo stopped.)

"Espera, ¿es el tipo del que me hablaste? ¿Es por eso que te fuiste de Barcelona?" Leo asked, in disbelief. (Wait he's the guy you told me about? He's why you left Barcelona?)

"Pablo, por favor, vete". You pleaded staring into his eyes. (Pablo, please just leave.)

"No me voy Y/N. Pasé meses esperando a que volvieras a Barcelona, así que puedo admitir que fui un idiota y tratar de recuperarte, estaba dispuesto a luchar por nosotros". He stepped foward. (I'm not leaving Y/n. I spent months waiting for you to come back to Barcelona so I can admit I was an idiot and try to win you back, I was willing to fight for us.)

Your heart broke, watching him break admitting to you he had been waiting for you for months. That he wanted to fight for your love, he flew ten hours just to admit all of this to you.

"Y/n estoy aquí. No Pedri, estoy aquí, volé a Sevilla pensando que estabas de vuelta en casa, volé aquí justo después de descubrir dónde has estado ¿Y dónde está Pedri? En ninguna parte". He rambled, before you knew it you had made it from your doorstep to the inside of your apartment.

Leo silently watching from the living room as you and Gavi talked at the dining table.

"¿Por qué viniste aquí?" You broke the silence. (Why did you come here?)

"Solo quería saber si estabas bien". He mumbled looking up at you. (I just wanted to know if you were ok.)

"Como puedes ver, estoy bien, así que puedes irte." You avoided eye contact, looking at anything but him, because if you did he would see right through you and know you weren't fine. (As you can see I'm doing good, so you can leave now.)

He scoffed, "¿Por qué me estás alejando?" (Why are you pushing me away?)

"Porque me rompiste el corazón, Pablito." Your voice rised a little, on how agitated you were at his question. (Because you broke my heart thats why.)

"No actúes como una santa Y/n. Tú también rompiste el mío cuando me dijiste que besaste a Pedri mientras decías estar enamorado de mí". He spat, continuing to talk, "Y mira Y/n, ¿dónde está Pedri? En ninguna parte, porque él no vino a buscarte, yo lo hice. Sabes lo que ha estado haciendo desde la noche que te fuiste, se ha estado follando a otras chicas. Se estaba follando a una chica cuando le enviaste ese mensaje, no se preocupa por ti". (Don't act like a saint Y/n. You broke mine too when you told me you kissed Pedri while claiming to be in love with me. And look Y/n where is Pedri? Nowhere, because he didn't come looking for you, I did. You know what he's been doing since the night you left he's been fucking other girls. He was fucking a girl when you sent him that message he doesn't care about you.)

"Estás mintiendo". You choked out tears beginning to sting your eyes. That same night he was telling you that he wanted to be with you, that it didn't matter what Gavi thought that he would fight for you to love him. (You're lying.)

There was no way he had gone out and fucked a girl that same night, was all that he said a lie? Was everything he told you that one night at the beach a lie? Did you mean nothing to him?

"¡Estamos aquí, había mucho tráfico!" Tania shouted both her and Isaella finally arriving with the food being gone for an hour. (We're here! Traffic was bad!)

They both were met with shock, Leo was at the couch clenching his fists tight to the point his knuckles were turning white. Gavi and Y/n sitting at the table, staring back at them.

Isabella stared at Gavi with a pure hatred that words could not describe but she was about to bring hell on earth for him showing his face after what he did.

whilst Tania stared at Gavi and admiration, an FC Barcelona player was in her shared apartment, granted she didn't know that he was the guy or one of the guys Y/n ran away from.

"Deja vu". Isabella blurted out, remembering the last time this had happened she was also late to Y/n's apartment in Barcelona because of a food situation.

Tania turned to look at her confused, she turned to look at ger brother who was fuming, staring at Gavi deadly.

They stayed silent for a moment, "Vuelve a Barcelona". (Come back to Barcelona.)

"No puedo". You whispered. (I can't.)

"¿Por qué no?" He asked. (Why not?)

"Tengo una vida aquí, tengo a mis amigos aquí, tengo escuela aquí, no puedo dejarlo todo. Mi novio está aquí". You rambled a bunch of excuses not caring if it didn't make sense. (I have a life here, I have my friends here, I have school here I can't just leave everything. My boyfriend is here.)

"Tienes una vida en Barcelona, tienes a Isabella, a mí y a Aurora de vuelta a casa, puedes transferirte de vuelta a la universidad". He begged you, he wanted you back at home with him, he missed you. He wanted to show you he was worthy of your love. (You have a life in Barcelona, you have Isabella, Aurora, and me. You could transfer back to the university.)

"Creo que deberías irte." Leo stood up from the couch having enough of Gavi. (I think you should go.)

"No iré a ninguna parte hasta que ella y yo hablemos". Gavi stood up from the chair. (I'm not going anywhere till me and her talk.)

"Bueno, soy su novio y esta conversación ha terminado, no voy a dejar que la manipules para que vuelva a Barcelona". He inched closer to the table where both you and Gavi where. (Well I'm her boyfriend and this conversation is over, I'm not going to let you manipulate her into going back to Barcelona.)

He was done, he wasn't going to let Gavi manipulate you and bring you back to Barcelona, you had your life here, he was here.

"No eres su novio, eres una distracción para ella, porque ella no te quiere". Pablo laughed dryly. (You aren't her boyfriend you're a distraction for her, because she doesn't love you.)

"Pablo." You whispered. "Para." You garbbed his wrist preventing him from moving closer to Leo.

"¿Ves cómo no lo negó?" He continued to laugh. (See how she didn't deny it?)

"¡Fuera de aquí, joder!" Leo shouted in frustration, Gavi was right, you didn't deny it. You weren't even talking or trying to defend what he was saying. You were just simply allowing it. (Get the fuck out of here!)

"No me iré hasta que hable con ella y eso es final!" Gavi shouted in frustration. All he wanted to do was talk to you and reason with you to return, but Leo was making it impossible. (I'm not leaving till I talk to her and thats final.)

He had enough, Leo snatched your wrist away from Gavi's and grabbed him by the collar dragging him out.

"Leo para!" You begged, watching as Gavi tried fighting back trying to punch him in the gut to get him to let go. (Leo stop!)

"¡Leo déjalo ir!" Tania shouted at her brother, trying to pull his grip off from Gavi. (Leo let him go!)

Isabella rushing trying to pull Leo off, Leo's anger coursing through his body, the adrenaline he had not allowing the girls to get him off.

"¡Leo, para!" You shouted at him again, running trying to pull Gavi away from him, this angering him only more on the way you were trying to help Gavi out.

"¡Estás siendo infantil, déjalo ir, joder!" You cried out, prying his fingers off of Gavi's collar, shoving him, Tania and Isabella pulling at him. (You're acting childish let him fucking go!)

Gavi's collar beginning to wrap around his neck from the force Leo had been yanking on it. "¡Para! ¡Leo, déjalo ir, le estás haciendo daño!" You watched as Leo didn't even listen to you more aggressively began yanking on his collar still trying to drag him out the door.

You couldn't stand watching him hurt Gavi you shoved Leo off with everything you had combined with Isbaella and Tania's strength ya'll were finally able to get him to let go.

You scurried alongside Gavi trying to help him catch his breath again, Tania was shouting at Leo but you zoned it out focusing on Gavi.

"¿Qué coño te pasa, Leo? ¡Podrías haberle hecho mucho daño!" You yelled at Leo, crouching by Gavi, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stabilize him. (What the fuck is wrong with you Leo?! You could have seriously hurt him?)

"Me asustas". You finished rubbing Gavi's back both you and Isabella helping him stand up. "Sal de mi puto apartamento, me da asco a mirarte ahora mismo". (You scare me. Get the fuck out of my apartment I'm disgusted to even look at you right now.)

"¡Por qué soy tu novio si alguien debería irse es el!" He argued. (Why I'm your boyfriend if anyone he should leave!)

You laugh, "¿Hablas en serio? ¡Podrías haberlo matado si no te hubiéramos quitado de él! ¡Estás loco! ¡Vete!" (Are you serious? You could have killed him if we didn't get you off of him! You're crazy! Leave!)

"Que te jodes". He laughed. "¡Te va a romper el corazón otra vez! ¡No seas jodidamente estúpida y deja que te manipule!" (He's going to break your heart again! Don't be fucking stupid and let him manipulate you!")

"Leo cálmate y vete". Tania opened the door signaling for him to leave. (Leo calm down and leave.)

"¿Hablas en serio? ¿Estás de su lado?" He laughed in disbelief . (Are you serious? You're on her side?)

"Vete." Tania warned, "O esta vez seré yo arrastrándolo fuera de la puerta". (Leave, Or this time it will be me dragging you out of the door.)

"Bien, me iré, pero no vuelvas llorando conmigo como lo hiciste antes cuando te rompe el corazón de nuevo." He walked out angrily slamming the door on his way out. (Fine I'll leave, but don't come fucking back crying to me like you did before when he breaks your heart again.)

You sighed in relif that he was finally gone, you've never seen him get violent, or that angry in the five months of knowing him. And he was truly terrifying.

What would have happened if you didn't managed to get him off Gavi? The thought of loosing him made you scared to the point of nearly tearing up.

"Siento mucho lo de él, te dejó una marca en el cuello". You sighed gently tracing it with your finger. (I'm so sorry about him, he left a mark on your neck.)

"No sé qué se le metió, nunca ha sido tan violento". Tania returned from the kitchen with an icepack offering it to Gavi. ( i don't know what got into him, he's never been this violent.)

Gavi placing it on his neck, trying to reduce the redness from his neck, you slightly pushing stray strands of hair out of his face, leaning your head on his shoulder continuing to whisper sorry's.

"Deberíamos irnos, todavía tienen que hablar". Isabella spoke up, standing from the couch. Tania as well nodding. (We should leave they still need to talk.)

"Vamos estar en la habitación si nos necesitas". Tania smiled, making her way towards the room. (Well be in the bedroom if you need us.)

"Lo siento mucho, Pablo, no sé qué se le metió". You whispered once more, his hand lacing with yours rubbing his thumb on your palm. (I'm really sorry Pablo, I don't know what got into him.)

"Está bien mi vida, estoy bien gracias a ti y a tus amigos". He whispered. (It's ok, i'm fine thanks to you and your friends."

"Tenía tanto miedo de que te fuera a matar, el fuego en sus ojos que vi era realmente aterrador". You hugged him, he was here, after months of not speaking and not seeing eachother he was here for you. You never realized how much you actually needed him till you saw him at your front door. Now you didn't want to let go, afraid too loose him once more. (I was so scared he was going to actually kill you, the fire in his eye's that I saw was truly terrifying.)

But what he said about Pedri was still running around in your head. You felt the betrayal all over again. How do you go from telling someone you want to be with them, and were willing to risk everything for them, to end up fucking a girl the same night you said that?

"¿De verdad se follo a una chica?" You closed your eyes, afraid of his answer. (Did he really fuck some girl?)

"Lo siento, Y/n." He whispered in a low voice, hearing you sob. (I'm sorry Y/n)

"Dijo que quería una vida conmigo, que lucharía por mi amor, que estaba dispuesto a arriesgarlo todo por mí". You sobbed at his false promises. (He said he wanted a life with me, that he would fight for my love, that he was willing to risk everything for me.)

"¿Cómo pudo follarse a una chica así, como si sus palabras no significan nada para él?" You leaned into Pablo, as he held you, just listening, afterall thats all he could do. (How could he just fuck a girl like that, like his words meant nothing to him?)

"No vale la pena". Gavi whispered, "Sé que he cometido mis errores, pero nunca haría falsas promesas, nunca te rompería el corazón de nuevo y esa es una promesa mi vida". (He isn't worth it. I know i've done my mistakes, but I would never make false promises I would never break your heart again and thats a promise.)

He was right, he never once broke a promise when they were little kids. She didn't know what caused her to, maybe it was her emotions all over the place, but she couldn't help it. It felt like it was long overdue.

She starred up at him, with the most innocent eyes ever he thought, maybe it was out of impulsive. But it felt right in the moment, they would deal with the consequences later.

They both leaned in, it wasn't like when Pedri had kissed her both times that he initiated it yes the kiss was a sweet but this one had a different feeling it felt heavenly.

It was a soft and pure kiss, shared by two people in love, the rush of emotions they were feeling was indescribable. It was everything she dreamed about for the past year, the way his hand came up to her cheek, pushig her closer by her waist, because hell he couldn't have believe it himself, after months of dreaming it he was finally here, finally kissing her.

He never wanted this feeling to stop, he didn't want it to end, because once it did they would have to snap back into reality, but that was a tomorrow problem.

Right now it was just an intimate moment between two people who had been in love with eachother and were finally getting the chance to show it to eachother.

She was the one to pull away first, resting her forhead on his, closing her eyes and thinking back to the moment. "Te amo." Gavi spoke. (I love you.)

Even though it wasn't the most ideal situation on how it led them to this moment, but to him it couldn't have been more perfect.

She pursed her lips, "Yo también te amo."

And it was the truth, she did love him, she had loved him for years without realizing it, and that kiss they just shared meant everything to her.

But he always managed to come back into her mind no matter what. Pedri always found a way back, even though she was mad or sad one of the other at his actions she was still attracted him, she still wanted him.

It was pathetic really, how she just learned he fucked some other girl the same night she left and still wanted him, still craved for his touch.

But Gavi, words couldn't describe how she felt towards him in this moment, she just wanted to stay in this little bubble with him forever.

She just wanted to kiss him again, and worry about the consequences tomorrow because in that moment Gavi was all she wanted.

Honestly guys I feel like if I hadn't worked a double shift and wasn't bored enough to write I probably would not have updated for like a month😭 But anyways espero que les haya gustado 🌷🩷

[xcal1bur25]

Also shoutout to the fuckin interaction between Archer and Saber when Archer's trying to kill Shirou this episode!

Saber: Archer why are you doing this?

Archer: Reasons. Why do you want to never be king?

Saber: Reasons.

Archer: Regret, right? An all encompassing desire to see a world where your aspirations didn't collapse in on themselves.

Saber: That's inane! Archer: We're all inane! Every one of us here is an idiot, you and I are just the only ones trying to do something about it!

And then archer's fuckin line right after Saber refuses to abandon Shirou:

Archer: Oh, this is the world where you come into your humanity? This one? Where it's the biggest pain in the ass for me! Where was this when...oh, nevermind.

Like, fuuuuuck it's so good. The abridged puts a lot more emphasis on how Archer comes from a failed version of the fate route, and how it's not just the stuff after his death he regrets. Hell, when lancer gives him shit about abandoning rin, he straight up makes a joke about preferring blondes.

I fucking love this abridged series so much.

[brainyxbat]

Chapter 8: Time to Fight Back! Usopp's Quick Thinking, and Fire Star!

(episode 76)

"We made it! Ah! So that's the second island in the Grand Line; Little Garden!"

"W-what's with this island?!"

"Collier Shoot!"

"L-Little Garden?! W-what's so little about this island?!"

"This is an island of ancient times. It's stuck in the age of the dinosaurs!"

"The duel has continued for 100 years now. I've forgotten the reason for it; but that doesn't matter, anyway."

"Then why?!"

"Pride!"

"Man, he's huge..."

"This is Elbaf, the God of War's... judgement! I didn't have his divine protection."

"Who is it?! Come out! You guys spoiled the old giant guys' duel! I'm gonna beat you up!"

"It's no use! Your friends are going to become my works of art!"

"Venus!"

"Luffy!"

"Ahh. Such nice tea."

"He was hit with the Tranquil Green!"

"Such... nice... tea."

-

"Luffy! What are you doing, you idiot?!" Usopp then spotted the green mark on his vest, and began to sneak up on him.

However, Mr. 5 saw him. "It's over for all of you." He took out his revolver. "This is my ultimate ability!"

"Special Attack: Exploding Star!" Usopp launched a bullet at him, and leaped in the air with Karoo, dodging his gunshots. His bullet hit the target: Luffy!

Ms. Golden Week jumped back when his vest burst into flames, and Ms. Valentine floated up in the air. "What an idiot! He missed his target, and hit his own friend!"

Usopp looked behind his back after Karoo landed. "Where'd his bullets go?!"

"Breeze Breath Bomb!"

Out of nowhere, an explosion erupted, sending Usopp and Karoo tumbling away. "Usopp-kun!" Venus' eye widened.

"I forgot to mention it, but my breath explodes."

Usopp landed with Karoo by the wax cake. "Dammit! This is insane! He had no bullets?! Karoo! You alright?!" He turned to the captain after Karoo quacked weakly. "Hey! You come to your senses?!"

"Y-yeah," Luffy regained his footing, now missing his vest, "I'm awake! Thanks!"

Ms. Valentine glared. "That attack was meant to burn his clothes, and the Trap on it, to undo the manipulation!"

Luffy panted in anger. "I've had enough of that paint! I refuse to let anyone else die! Now I'm mad!"

-

Meanwhile...

"It's definitely weird," An oblivious Sanji remarked in confusion, now back on the Going Merry, "Damn weird. Why hasn't anyone come back after all this time?" He had his larger catch on the shore close by. "Something must've happened to Nami-san, Venus-chan, Vivi-chan, and the rest. In which case, this is no time to be getting ready to cook a lizard!"

Using his catch as leverage, he leaped down in the jungle, and "persuaded" a saber-toothed tiger to give him a ride. "Nami-san! Venus-chan! Vivi-chan! Hey! Say something! I love you!" He stopped, and jumped down upon noticing a strange, cube-shaped structure. "What's this?"

-

Mr. 3 laughed evilly. "So what if you're mad? Just look at your friends now!"

"So what?! They're still alive!"

"Are they now? All they need now is some of Ms. Golden Week's paint, and they'll be exceptional wax figures!" Usopp was silent with fury. "You're too late, Straw Hat!" A tree collapsed nearby. "That's correct! You're not only late, but now you can experience even more despair!" More trees suffered the brunt of his next attack. "Move out!" Venus gaped in awe from the ground, as the wax formed a giant, robot-like battle suit. "Candle... Champion!"

Usopp and Karoo screamed in terror. "What's that?" Luffy asked.

"It's said he once took down a 42 million berry bounty with this," Mr. 5 replied.

"It's Mr. 3's ultimate artistic talent," Ms. Valentine added.

"Now, Ms. Golden Week! Perform an artistic paint job on me!"

"Can I take a break after that?"

"Yes, of course! I'd actually prefer you to stay out of this!" She nodded with a small smile. "Like this, I am invincible! This armor is hard as iron, and wrapped around me like velvet! My form now... has no flaws!"

Everyone stared on in silence, before Luffy brightened up. "S-so cool!"

"This is no time to be admiring him!" Usopp shouted.

"Fight!" Venus urged.

While Ms. Golden Week painted, Luffy prepared to attack. "Alright! Gum-Gum..." He reeled his fist into the jungle.

"Paint job complete!"

"Now, then!"

"Pistol!" His fist bounced off of the wax mech.

"Champ Fight! Harvest Field!" He spun the arms ferociously, the boxing gloves digging into the ground, as Luffy leaped away.

"Gum-Gum... Stamp!" He was ejected yet again.

"It's no use!"

"Not good!" Usopp frowned. "The guy's so solid, his attacks don't work!" Luffy landed on the cake by his decapacitated friends, then jumped off. Usopp and Karoo covered their mouths when the rain started falling on them. "Damn! The wax haze!"

"Don't turn into statues!" Venus exclaimed fearfully.

He stared at the white material on his hands. "Wax?" He turned to the spinning top; more specifically, the flaming candles. Flame? Of course! "Yeah! Why didn't I realize it?! The fact it turns into a mist means it can melt!" He turned to the captain, and the witch. "Luffy, Venus! Fire melts this guy's wax! No matter how hard it is, wax is still wax!"

"Yeah!" Venus perked up.

"Zoro, and all the others hardened only moments ago! We can save them!" Karoo quacked.

"What?! For real?!" He beamed.

"Yeah, for real," Ms. Golden Week confirmed.

Mr. 3 gaped in shock. "Don't admit that to them!"

"Too late!" Venus mocked.

"But even if you realize that now, you have neither time, or a chance of winning! 30 more seconds at most! After that, their hearts will completely stop! As we speak, they're probably writhing in pain with what little consciousness they have left, as they experience the terror of dying!"

Karoo pushed Usopp up on his feet. "We don't need 30 seconds! I'll save them now! Special Attack: Fire-"

"Breeze Breath Bomb!" Mr. 5 shot at him again, this time with a direct hit!"

"Usopp!" Luffy screamed.

"Usopp-kun!" Venus cried.

His slingshot was dropped, as he fell on his back. "Did you not hear him say you had no chance of winning?"

"Dammit!" Luffy cursed. "There's no time!"

Mr. 3 then appeared behind him. "Give it up!" Before Luffy could do anything, he was punched into the ground.

Usopp crawled over to Karoo, now with a rope on hand. "Listen, take this rope-"

"Oh?" Ms. Valentine floated over, interrupting him. "This looks like fun! Whatcha planning? Can I join in, too?"

Usopp was fearfully quiet for a few seconds. "Karoo! Run!" He loudly whispered, before finally shouting. "Run! Just run around the candlesticks!" Karoo quickly began doing as told.

Mr. 5 readied his revolver again. "Everything you try is pointless!"

"Pardon me." Ms. Valentine sat on Usopp's back. "Crescendo Stone! How many kilograms can you ensure, I wonder..." Karoo dodged the bullets, as he ran. "10 kilograms... 100 kilograms..." Usopp grunted in discomfort when her weight increased. "200 kilograms..." His eyes were wide, as he felt his lungs being compressed. "300 kilograms..." She was oblivious to Venus sneaking towards her ominously, dragging her heavy mallet restraint.

"Damn nimble bird!" Mr. 5 complained when he couldn't shoot Karoo.

Mr. 3 started punching at Luffy again. "Give it up! Give it up! They've become my works of art!"

"I don't think so!" Luffy leaped into the air. "I won't let you have their lives!" He grabbed his topknot, and made a beeline for the cake. "If fire can melt them, then I'll use this fire!"

"Don't pull! Stop!"

"Luffy!" Usopp protested, as Venus inched closer. He didn't see her either. "That small flame won't do it fast enough! Light Karoo's rope on fire!"

"The bird's rope?!" By now, Karoo had the rope wrapped all around the cake.

Usopp poured some kerosene on his end. "It's a special rope, soaked in oil!"

"Okay! Everyone! Wake up!"

"Hey! Wait! Stop!"

"It'll be a little hot, but endure it." Closer.

"Stop!" With one single touch, the whole structure erupted in flames. "Oww!" Mr. 3 struggled. "Hot! Hot!"

"What a big fire!" Luffy exclaimed. "Are they gonna be alright?!"

"Curse you... curse you, Straw Hat! How dare you destroy my Candle Service Set! You'll pay for this!"

Luffy turned around to find Mr. 3, and Ms. Golden Week attempting to flee into the jungle. "I won't let you get away, you jerks!"

A scared Karoo jumped back and forth, avoiding wax mounts falling around him. "Dammit! How dare you mock us!" Mr. 5 exclaimed.

Ms. Valentine punched Usopp's face. "Now you've done it! Playtime is over!" She shot up in the air. "I'm going to shatter that neck of yours into pieces! Special Attack: 10,000 Kilogram Guillotine!" Closer.

Usopp watched fearfully, as she started rocketing back down. "This is bad!"

Little did she realize, a certain someone was coming for her. Three someone's; Venus finally swung her restraint, while Vivi spun her slashers, and Nami (who was missing her shirt) wielded a staff, all to knock her away. As Venus dragged herself to him, Nami and Vivi stood back-to-back. "That was hot!" Nami remarked. "Couldn't you have done it a different way?"

Venus turned to her with a snarky look, as a stray ember ignited her mallet. "Ouch!" She yelped from the burn. "What other option was there, huh?"

An irritated Usopp managed to sit up with the witch's help. "Yeah, don't be fussy! Just be thankful you were saved!"

"You're right," Nami admitted, "Thanks!"

"This doesn't seem real," Vivi remarked, "We're alive!"

"The wax melted," Mr. 5 observed, "What a pain! We can't afford to screw up our mission any further!" He pointed his revolver, alarming the girls.

"Stay behind me," Usopp surprised Venus with his sudden bravery, "Mr. 5! Special Attack: Exploding Star!"

Mr. 5 ate the bullet again. "Fool! I've shown several times that explosives don't work on me! I'm an explosive man!"

"You took the bait!" Usopp grinned.

"Huh?" Venus looked up at him in confusion, and watched their adversary.

He soon sweating profusely, and his complexion was turning red. "So sorry! I'm a liar, you see!" Venus put her fingers to her mouth, stifling giggles. "That wasn't even an Exploding Star! It was a Special Tabasco Star!"

"Spicy!" Mr. 5 screamed, as fire shot from his mouth like a geyser.

Usopp laughed victoriously. "I already proved its effectiveness the hard way!"

"Alright, Usopp!" Venus cheered.

Mr. 5 collapsed to his knees. "Damn you pirates!" He coughed. "How dare you make a mockery of me!" Usopp's eyes widened in terror. "Time to blow up a full-body explosion!" He made a mad beeline for the sniper. "There won't even be bone fragments left!"

Just as he pushed Venus away to safety, he was trapped in a dangerous embrace. "No! Stop!" He thrashed frantically in his arms, but he was too strong.

"Usopp-kun!" She exclaimed.

"No! I'm sorry! I won't do it anymore!"

"Flaming Oni..." Zoro leaped from the fire, swords ready, "Giri!" Only Mr. 5 was affected; he was now ablaze, so Usopp was safe. "Flaming swords aren't too shabby," He remarked.

"Zoro!" Nami addressed him.

They were startled by a sudden quaking; it was Broggy! Also on fire, he stood on his feet, ready to fight. "Yo," Zoro greeted, "Good to see you're alive."

"Yeah," Broggy grinned, but it disappeared when he looked over Dorry's body.

"Master..."

Broggy perked back up, and gazed into the jungle. "That leaves two foes left."

"Bird!" Luffy ran after them with Karoo. "Don't let them get away with this!" They jumped over a fallen tree. "Real men don't spoil people's fights!" They skidded to a stop at what was in front of them: Mr. 3. Lots of him!

"How good of you to come! Welcome to my Wax-Wax Manor!"

"What is this?!"

"Well, then. Can you tell where I am?" Karoo glanced about hopelessly. "It would appear you picked a fight with the wrong people! We're the most intellectual team in all of Baroque Works! A brute force buffoon like you, who acts on instinct cannot catch us! I am Mr. 3. I carry out all assignments given to me flawlessly. Now, then! Step forward! The moment your back is turned to me, I'll stab you..." He had a dagger ready. "Right through the heart."

Through his laughter, Luffy eyed them all carefully... aha! "Gum-Gum... Stamp!" His foot shoved the real one into a tree.

"How... did you know," He stumbled forward deliriously, "I was here?" He then fell on his back in the grass.

Luffy was silent for a moment. "Instinct."

Just then, Karoo noticed Ms. Golden Week sneaking away, and charged in, to her terror.

-

In the wax house he found, Sanji poured himself some tea. "Afternoons are definitely best with Earl Grey." Just then, it hit him. "Hold on, now! This is no time for me to be drinking tea all fancy-like! Nami-san and the others might be waiting for me to help them!" He set the teacup down, and stood off the chair. "Still, though. What's such a relaxing place doing in the jungle?"

"Beta-beta-beta-beta-"

"Huh?" Sanji turned back at a strange ringing from a woven basket. "What's that?" He walked over, and lifted the top up. "Oh... it's a Transponder Snail." It was a purple snail, with a black handlebar mustache, and a shell that had teal and darker purple vertical stripes. Sanji set it on the table, and promptly answered. "Heya. You've called the Damn Restaurant. You want reservations?" For a few seconds, no one answered.

"Quit fooling around, dumbass," A deep, male voice chided, "Aren't you a bit late with your report?"

"Oh? Report?" Sanji replied curiously. "And who might I be talking to?"

"It's me. Mr. 0." At that, he frowned in determination. Mr. 0, huh?

[votestaynight2]

11th Day - WitchCraft (Scene 3)

Alright! So yesterday, we saw Tohsaka be a FUCKING GIGACHAD. Today, Shirou deals with a problem.

"――――I refuse. I won't cooperate with you." I say so to the magus without looking away.

"What…!?" Three people gasp. Nobody here expected me to reply like that.

"A-Are you mad――――? Do you understand the position you are in?" "Yeah, I get your point. I think you're saying the right thing."

If battles can be avoided, they should be avoided. And if the Holy Grail can be shared, it should be shared. ――――But.

"But I won't help out a witch that's attacking people indiscriminately. You're right, but the method is wrong. …And one more thing. I wasn't forced to be a magus. I succeeded my father out of my own will. ―――You have no right to say anything about it."

"―――I see. Then I do not want you. You can die here." Caster's voice fills with intent to kill.

"You――――" At the same time, Saber gets ready to attack. And… "Don't move, Saber―――!" …I stop her with all my might.

"…Please. Don't move, Saber. You too, Tohsaka. We can't move right now." She'll be killed if any one of us moves. I'll lose the person that was with me until now, a person that is like an older sister to me. I can't allow that.

"…But Shirou." "…You idiot. Then why did you refuse?" But the two stop. "……" I take a step towards Caster as if to hide them.

"Oh, I thought you might be clueless, but I guess you do know the position you are in." Caster smiles once again. …Her arm. Her left arm that was carrying Fuji-Nee points slowly at me.

"…! How unfair, are you going to kill Shirou when he is not resisting!?" "Of course not. I will not take his life. I am just going to take his rights as a Master. It seems you only have one more, but give me that Command Spell. You won't come to my side, but you want to save this woman. You should have been prepared for this when you said that."

"――――――!" Saber gasps. "………" I apologize to Saber in my mind and take another step towards Caster.

"―――All right. But how can I hand you the Command Spell? I don't know of a way to give it to someone." "Shirou…! No, even if you do that, it…"

"Let's see. I can transplant it if there is no intrusion, but I don't think I can wish for that here. Transplanting it would be impossible unless we go to a better place. So…"

――――Cut that arm off here.

"――――――――" The black witch says so with a smile.

"―――That is it. Shirou, please give up on Taiga. I cannot let Caster do as she wishes…!" "I feel the same way. First of all, she's not one to release a hostage. She'll use you until the very end if you obey her."

"――――――――" The two have a point. So I can only apologize to them in my head.

"――――Take it. This is good, right?" I raise my left arm. Caster should be able to cut off my left arm along with the Command Spell with one word.

"―――No, Shirou…!" "What's wrong with you…!? There's no need to go that far to save someone else!" "There is. If I can save Fuji-Nee at the cost of just one arm, I don't even need to think about it." I point my left arm at Caster.

"…All right. Come here, Emiya Shirou. I don't know what you're intending, but my finger is faster than any of your surprise attacks." Caster still must not trust me, as she puts some distance between us.

"………" I walk to her. …Caster's right in front of me, and the other two are far away from me. I walk to the place where I won't be able to get away and hold out my arm.

"Ha――――――――" The black witch watches me in astonishment.

"Haha. Ahaha, ahahahahahaha……!! I'm surprised. You really are a good person! Fine, I shall give you back this woman in deference to your good faith!" Her robe flutters. Caster keeps a hold of Fuji-Nee with her left hand and takes out a strange dagger with her right.

"This is amazing. I didn't need to go through so much trouble if it was going to be like this! You really are a stupid boy. You are annoying, so a softhearted person like you should die…!" She swings her dagger. It goes not for my arm, but my heart, and――――

"Caster――――!" She explodes. Saber charges in with such speed that I thought she exploded.

"――――!?" The speed must have been faster than Caster expected, as her dagger is repelled. Caster retreats and Saber follows her. She must have figured out that she can't get away.

"I see, then――――" Smiling happily, Caster puts power into her right hand and―――

"―――No, stop, Saber…!!!!" I pray from the bottom of my heart and reach out with my left arm.

"Wha――――you used your Command Spell――――?" Saber stops. Her movements are stopped by the absolute obedience enforced by the Command Spell.

There,[r] the dagger is stabbed as easily as making footprints in snow.

"Wha――――" It feels like time has stopped. Saber is looking down at her chest in blank amazement.

"Caster, you…" "Yes, this is my Noble Phantasm, Saber. It has no attack power and is only a key used for rituals. But―――this is a blade of betrayal that overturns any contract. You are like me now. Betray your master and entrust your sword to me."

"――――!?" Red light erupts. Magical energy flows out like tumbling water. It spreads through Saber's body, destroys every rule controlling her, and―――― The connection between Saber and me is completely cut.

"Haa, ah――――!" Saber crumples onto the floor. …There is a mark like a bruise on her forehead.

I see three marks appearing on Caster. The Command Spell to control the Servants… What used to be on me, the proof of being Saber's Master, is on her arm now――――

"Wha――――" "Are you surprised? This is my Noble Phantasm, 'Rule Breaker'. It is a sword of betrayal and negation which nullifies any magic in this world."

"Ah――――――――kuh." Saber is moaning on the floor… …As if fighting against a poison that entered her.

"You――――a Servant is taking a Servant――――?"

"Yes, I made her into my familiar. Now, everything is as planned. Emiya Shirou isn't a Master anymore, and Saber is mine. There is nothing to fear now that I have her. It does not matter even if Berserker attacks me. I shall go attack them this time…!" Caster laughs and picks up Fuji-Nee.

"Here, I'll give her back to you. She's important to you, right? Then you have to do your best so she won't die." Fuji-Nee's body floats up. She goes through the air as if being pulled by an invisible arm.

"Fuji-Nee…!" I catch her at once.

"Fuji-Nee…! Are you all right, Fuji-Nee…!?" There's no reply. But her body is warm. Fuji-Nee is unconscious, but she's still breathing and is unwounded.

"――――――――" I sigh with relief. "Are you happy now? I shall spare the woman since I promised you. And… Yes, I shall let you go as well. Your previous action was so wonderful that it made me angry. But――――"

"…I see. Well, I knew it was going to be like this." "Yes, the fun's over, little lady. Saber, kill Archer's Master. If he gets in the way, you can kill your previous Master as well."

"Guh… Ridiculous, who would obey you…!?" Saber glares at Caster while on her knees.

"No, you obey me, Saber. You are mine now. You cannot disobey me as long as I have the Command Spell."

"Ah――――, guh――――!" Saber's voice fills up with pain. …But on the other hand… Saber's body slowly gets up against her will.

"Ah――――ha, ah――――!" Saber's body moves. She charges at Tohsaka with the same speed as before, and―――― She thrusts her sword.

"Ah… kuh――――……!" I feel a dull pain on my shoulder. I feel the steel stabbed into my shoulder. The sword that should be invisible is outlined in my blood.

"You idiot, why――――?" I hear Tohsaka's voice from behind me. …But I can't do anything, no matter what she says. It's just that my body moved on its own, and most of all―――I didn't want to see Saber attack Tohsaka. I didn't want to see it, so I just placed myself in between them――――

"Guh――――!" My body twitches. Saber's sword hasn't stopped yet. It rips into my flesh and grates against my collarbone. The sword will eventually cut the arteries in my neck and kill me.

"Ha, ah――――!!!!!" That's… not good. I'm still holding onto Fuji-Nee. And Tohsaka is behind me as well――――!

"…That's too bad. How wasteful. I was interested in him, but…" Far away… Caster is… saying something.

"Follow the Command Spell, Saber. Just slash them both." A cold-hearted order. With sounds as if opposing it… Saber's arm shakes and stops.

"――――! No way, Saber's magic resistance even opposes the binding of the Command Spell…!?" Caster is astonished. Saber looks down, bites her lips, and desperately pulls back her sword.

"―――n."

She moans in despair. Drip. Saber hangs her head and cries.

"―――Run, Shirou…!!!!" Saber pleads with so much effort that she might cough up blood.

"Come on, Shirou…!" "Oh――――hold on, Tohsaka――――" I run, my arm pulled by Tohsaka.

…The wound on my shoulder is so hot that my mind's not working. But I have Fuji-Nee in my arms and I have accepted that running away is the only option. …No. I have no choice but to accept it.

"Sa… ber…" …What a contradiction. She threw away her pride as a swordsman and told me to run away. To honor her wish is the greatest help I can provide for her.

…But on the other hand. Ignoring her tears and running away means losing her――――

…My breath is ragged. I don't know where we ran, but the familiar Western-style mansion is before me.

"This way, Shirou…! Are you conscious? Can you walk?"

…I run, being pulled by someone. My body is strangely light. I must have gotten lighter after losing the things within me, or I just feel nothing. The only weight I feel is the body of Fuji-Nee in my arms.

I can't see well. I'm not sure where I'm walking nor what I'm doing.

"You can lay Fujimura-Sensei there. …Hey, are you listening to me, Shirou!? It's safe here, so let go of her…!"

Someone takes away the person in my arms. ――――The important weight disappears. At the same time, my body becomes heavy. The light body turns into iron, and I fall, unable to keep myself up.

"…! Hurry, Archer! I'll treat him, so take him to my room…!"

I hear someone's voice. My body is heavy and hot. …I imagine turning red. Does it get this hot when you put steel in fire to make a sword? The heat gradually goes away as time passes.

"[line12]" A room I don't know. I stare at the ceiling with a boiling head. …That's the only thing I can do. It seems I'm lying on a bed.

"I can't heal this wound. You can't fight with this wound, but―――you're not a Master anymore, so there's no reason for you to fight anyway."

…A calm voice, unlike before. The person that brought me here to treat my wound… "―――This is it. You don't have to fight anymore, Shirou." …Says those words.

"――――――――" I try to say something and my vision turns black. My eyelids fall. Anesthesia causes my body to fall asleep. I feel someone leaving and hear the sound of the door closing. "――――――――" My consciousness turns off at that moment.

Interlude 11-1

The sun sets. The sun, which wasn't even visible, sets and the dark sky gets even darker.

"―――I see. So Saber got taken away." That's the only response Archer gave. His master, Tohsaka Rin, simply stated the facts, but he states it even more matter-of-factly.

"…That's all? There are two Servants under Caster now. Don't you have anything else to say?" "I cannot think of a way to beat her at the moment. But we should consider it fortunate that we know her Noble Phantasm now. ―――Break the contract between the Servant and the Master, huh? We should be able to do better if we know that ahead of time." "That is true. …But you sure sound uninterested, Archer. Weren't you supporting Saber?"

"―――I don't think I ever showed interest in her. What makes you think so, Rin?" "Let's see. Would woman's intuition be a good enough reason?" "No. You are not of an age to be called a woman. First of all, you do not have enough charm. You lack elegance as well. And most of all―――yes, this is fatal… your charm is hard to understand."

"――――Heh. I see. You're finally back to par now." She smiles pleasantly. Archer has to be like this. An unemotional person isn't the partner Rin trusts. Her partner has to always be composed and has to speak cynically against anyone.

Rin knows that is the kindness of this knight. Speaking cynically is like indirectly telling others to fix that part of them.

"I see. Then here's the first proof. You went easy on Saber the first time you met her. Even though Saber may be strong, I don't think you, the one good at defending, would be beaten in one blow."

"That was a surprise attack. I am weak against unexpected things, like you are." "Heh, shut up. So, here's the next proof. You provoked Saber after the incident with Rider. That wasn't like you at all. I realized after I looked at it from a different angle. You were scolding Saber back then, right?"

"…………" "Oh, am I right? I thought so. I don't know if you knew her from your previous life, but it's rare for you to act so coldly." "Really? I think I act that way towards everyone." "You're the only one who thinks so. I think you're really clumsy when it comes to anything that concerns you. Everyone's tricked because you're not clumsy towards others."

Archer frowns. He must have been self-conscious of it. The knight in red ponders with a troubled expression, and his master looks at him in pleasure. And suddenly… "So, do you remember which hero you are now? If you're related to Saber, you must be a hero from around that age, right?" She says so as if testing something.

"――――No, my past is still hazy. But I do remember Saber as you say. She doesn't seem to know me, so I guess we didn't have a deep connection." "Hm. So I guess you two weren't friends or lovers. That's too bad. I would've found out Saber's true identity if that were the case." She doesn't sound disappointed. It's just an offhanded remark.

"Well, I'll remember eventually. By the way, Rin. How is the one you brought here doing? Is that one doing fine?"

"…Yeah, he survived. His wounds healed up automatically until yesterday, but this wound isn't healing at all. I think Saber's self-healing powers went away because the contract came to an end. But he survived. Fortunately, he didn't get hit in any vital points, so he should be able to get up and eat in about three days."

"No, not that one. I meant the other person." "Huh? Oh, Fujimura-Sensei? I let her sleep in the guest room. I think Caster used a sleeping magic on her, but she's still doing really well. I did treat her, so it shouldn't be a problem even if she sleeps for a week."

"――――I see. But she might turn into a sleeping beauty with Caster's magic. That woman's spells are more like curses. The simplest way to dispel her is to kill Caster." "Yeah. Either way, the Holy Grail War won't last much longer. We're going to beat Caster as fast as possible, and knowing Fujimura-Sensei, she might wake up on her own." Archer nods. And after a brief pause in the conversation…

"Beating Caster comes first. Even though there is one less Master now, Saber still exists. …We do not have time to spare, Rin." "I know. We'll go out to town immediately. Even Caster should take some time to completely control Saber. If possible, we have to beat Caster before Saber is fully controlled."

"All right. ――――So the contract about that kid ends here, huh?" "Huh――――?" "Emiya Shirou isn't a Master anymore, right? Then he will be of no help and there will be no need to protect him. The second Command Spell can be lifted off me now, right?" "――――――――" "What? Don't tell me you'll take care of him because he cooperated with you." "――――Of course not. I'm not that good a person."

"Then…" "But it's not over yet. I won't break the promise until he himself says he's out of this war. …I'll try to get him out, but we can't end it until he gives up." She declares stubbornly. What can he reply to that?

"That's my course of action. Do you have any objections, Archer?" "――――It cannot be helped. I'm fully aware that you are like that." His voice sounds cynical. She just laughs it off and makes an order. "Let's go, Archer. I don't know why, but Caster isn't back at the Ryudou Temple. Then――――let's find her and defeat her before she goes back to the temple." There's no need to answer. The knight in red nods and follows his master.

Gloomy clouds are still overhead. A moonless night. She departs with Archer to take aim at her target.

End of Interlude

It feels like I just got punched. "――――――――, ah." I wake up from the pain in my shoulder. …My body's still there. I feel my limbs and hear my own breathing. There's bandage wrapped around my shoulder, and the bed I'm in is soft.

"――――Huh? This place.. is…?" …I don't know. And――――someone said…

―――This is it. You don't have to fight anymore―――

"…!" I get up. I remember everything and jump up from the be――――[r] "Guh――――!" Pain causes my back to arch.

"Ah――――hh………!" …I feel my left shoulder. It's burning hot. It feels much worse than a pulled muscle. No, I'm lucky that my arm is still attached after a sword went through it, but it still hurts bad.

"Guh… ah, ah, ha――――" I slowly get out of bed. I can bear this pain if I grit my teeth. Then――――

"――――――――" …The heat in my shoulder reaches my head. I shake it off and move my legs. "――――No… one's here?" There shouldn't be anyone. I remember Tohsaka's words. She said those words and left. So she went to fight by herself. "Haa――――Haa, ah――――" I head to the door. I have to go outside. I have to go find Tohsaka. "Kuh――――" I fall. I almost collapse and support myself using the dresser. "Guh――――" …It's useless. I fall along with the dresser.

"Sorry… I made a mess, Tohsaka." I pick up the scattered stuff. "……Huh?" I find something familiar. It's a simple pendant made of crystal.

"…I think I saw this before――――" I saw it somewhere. …Yeah, it was like this back then as well. The night I got pierced by Lancer… The fatal wound was healed before I knew it. There was something I picked up when I left the hallway with a tired body.

It's hot. The poison in my shoulder gets to my brain and makes me dizzy.

"…Yeah. This is the same one." I know, but my mind does not think. Like the thing I dismissed as a dream… Like whose Servant was fighting Lancer at that time… Like who could have saved me and who could have been there at that time…

…There's no need to think about it, but my head is spinning.

"…Damn. What is that? She talked about owing me and all, but this is something I can never pay back――――" I feel dizzy. My head's messed up from pain, heat, and self-deprecation.

"Haa――――ah――――" I move my legs. I have to look for her. I have something I want to tell her, and there's something she needs to know. That's all I can think about with this dizzy head――――

"Haa――――Haa, haa, ah――――" When my senses return, I'm in front of the station. My hazy head is moving based on a vague image. …That "she's there". It orders me to go there if I am to look for her.

"――――――――" …I don't know why I'm directed here. My boiling head is only thinking about this building.

" !" …Then I can only follow my instincts. I didn't have any way to look for Tohsaka from the start. So I can only cling to this thing.

――――I get to the rooftop. The wind blowing here is even colder and cools down my heated brain. "――――――Why are you here?" I hear someone gasp. Tohsaka is looking down at the town from here, like that one night.

"Go home. I don't know what you want to do, but you're an eyesore." She expresses her anger and stares at me. Behind her,[r] he is standing there, telling me silently that I am of no use.

"I won't go home. When I do, it'll be with you. We promised to fight together, right?" I collect my hazy mind and move my lips.

"Forget about that promise. First of all, what can you do? Without Saber, you're no match for any Master." "――――――That's…"

"And there's no need for you to fight. You're not a Master anymore, so you'll be safe if you run to the church. You just need to stay there and the Holy Grail War will come to an end."

"――――――――" I almost faint at her words. It pisses me off. "Don't be stupid, I can't leave Saber like that…! Look, I said I'll fight. So I'll fight until the very en――――"

"Guh――――!" My vision turns red. I can't talk. Just yelling makes my muscles cramp up, and I almost die.

"See. You had Saber's help until now, but that's how it is once you don't have her help. …Look, Emiya-kun. People normally die when they are killed. Your wound should be fatal, you know?"

"Ah――――haa, ah――――ah." …Damn. I know that. I know, but it's so painful that I can't speak――――

"And you talk about Saber and all, but it's not a problem of yours. You're not a Master anymore, so it shouldn't concern you what happens to Saber."

"――――――――" It does concern me. All the more if Saber has helped me with pain like this up until now.

"…No, even… if I'm… not a Master. Saber… didn't want it. I can't… have her be controlled…!"

"――――I see. But you're powerless. …Fine. If you don't want to admit it yourself, I'll tell you. You can't save Saber as you are now."

"――――――――" My heat disappears. Her cold words freeze my boiling brain.

"That's all. You lost Saber and you're not a Master anymore. There's no reason for you to be involved in this massacre, so you can forfeit here, Shirou."

Tohsaka turns and walks off. "――――Stop, Tohsaka. But still――――"

"――――!" Amidst the blowing winds… Tohsaka kicks the ground without any hesitation. "You idiot――――! What are you thinking――――!?" I reach out frantically.

"――――――――" There's no need for that. The knight in red appears next to Tohsaka as if protecting her. Even if she jumps off from this height, she should be able to land without a problem if she has her Servant.

"――――――――" Tohsaka's lips move slightly. …I can't hear what she said. But her eyes…

―――You'll die if you keep involving yourself.

…Coldly tell me so as if it's the last warning.

"――――――――" My heat returns. The heat and the pain make my mind go crazy.

――――I cannot save Saber. And there is no reason for Emiya Shirou to fight.

"――――――――" …My wound hurts. I look down at the night scenery that swallowed Tohsaka and repeat those words in my head.

Interlude 11-2

――――It is a quiet night. The wind blowing on the mountain is gentle, and the rustling of the trees is as quiet as a whisper. There are no birds singing about winter, nor are there beasts howling at the moon. The only path leading to the Ryudou Temple… The long stone steps preserve its peacefulness tonight as well.

But others do not know. This place has withstood five battles already, each one was a great clash. Many Servants challenged the Ryudou Temple. Berserker, Lancer, Rider, Saber, Archer. This mountain gate is able to enjoy the darkness thanks to the monster that has repelled all five enemies.

The longsword moves. It is fortunate that the moon is not out. The arc of the sword moving in a crescent-moon shape is so beautiful that the moon would be ashamed of itself if it saw it.

"Are you listening, Assassin? I told you that you will continue to guard the gate." He ignores the magus in purple, Caster. Assassin lowers his longsword and glances at the mountain forest without interest. "Well, there was an intruder. I saw a strange bird, so I cut it. But it did not spill blood nor scream. Is this one of yours, Caster?"

"……! …I see, this must have been a familiar spying on us. It must be Berserker's Master or that young lady. Either way, this place will not last long." Caster walks to the forest and looks down at the "thing" on the ground. It is the corpse of an owl. It is a bird made from crystal. It is simple, but suited for spying, and must have been made by Archer's Master.

"…Heh, that lady is unlucky. I could have made her my student if she were less talented." She steps on it. The amethyst crystals are crushed to powder, scattering star-like dust.

"There are people like this, so I leave you in charge to protect my Master. I will disappear if my Master dies. If that happens, you cannot exist either. If you do not want to disappear, protect the gate and be prepared even for death."

"Well―――it is hard to be prepared for death. I have never felt that I was 'alive'. Is it not meaningless to ask that of one such as I?" "――――Stop your impudent talk. Do not misunderstand, Assassin. You are a Servant I summoned. A slave should act like a slave. If you cannot swear your loyalty, you can disappear right now."

Caster's words are filled with enmity and contempt. For her, Assassin is only a tool. It is annoying for a tool to talk, so it is natural for her to get mad when it starts to speak cynically.

"I see. Good heavens. My life is like a heat haze, but it is problematic if I disappear now. I have made a promise. If I can, I would like to fulfill this promise." "――――Then hold your tongue. You only need to protect this place. If you're able to do so, I can make you real. A low-class like you without a Noble Phantasm can become a heroic spirit, so it should be worth risking your life, right?"

"You do not need to worry. I have belonged to the other world from the beginning. I will act out my role. But is it all right, Caster? I am not loyal to my master, but you are dishonest as well. Tonight's matter is a secret to your Master, right?" At that instant, Assassin's body explodes. A thumping sound. The curse that was put into his body upon summoning has exploded.

The trees sway. Assassin is flung into the forest, his chest pierced from within by his own ribs. His figure is like a bloomed flower.

"Guh―――geez. You are getting worse every day, Caster." "――――Quiet. If I have to tell you one more time, I will eliminate you before waiting five days." "…Geez. They say women and mean people are unmanageable, but you have gone too far."

The flashy Servant gets up. This Servant does not lose his elegance even if he shows his ribs or if his body is covered in blood.

"Oh, do not glare at me like that. You are wasting your beautiful face, Caster. I know, everything is to be a secret from your Master, right? I will hide the fact that you caught Saber and that I am guarding this place. It is a moving story. I wish that your caring spirit would reach him." " Assassin, you…"

"I am just being a poor loser. I cannot attack you, so allow me to joke around like that. ―――I will protect the gate. I will protect it no matter what. But where are you going? Do you not trust my protection?"

"――――Of course not. You're just insurance. But that's at an end as well. Once I have control of Saber, I don't have to use this rustic place as my temple." "…Hm, so you will relocate? Then I am certainly not needed. Is there a sacred ground superior to this place?" "Yes. It is inferior to this place, but there is a place suited for me. And―――I will be going there in the near future anyways. There is no problem if I go now, right?"

"――――" Assassin's expression, which had been cool up to now, clouds up. Caster smiles as if she's satisfied.

"Yes. Our victory is certain, so I'm going to go receive the prize ahead of time. A new territory and the Holy Grail. And I also have another piece called Saber. With all this, I am sure my uninterested Master would have no complaints with my policy."

That is true. No matter how much Caster's Master, Kuzuki Souichirou, stays silent, he would be forced to fight if the conditions are set so perfectly. But what is more certain is that…

"―――The boring war will end. There will be nothing to fear once I obtain the Holy Grail. …Yes, nobody would be able to stop me―――!"

Loud laughter pollutes the night. The magus in purple expresses her victory. The knight with the longsword looks up at the sky.

――――The time is near. No matter what the end may be, only five days remain. Even though the remaining time will not likely be used up, the swordsman that has lived through hell feels that the match will not be settled easily.

End Of Intermission

"Ha――――, haa――――, haa――――" And I fall. I can't even breathe properly. The wound on my shoulder is swelling up, and it hurts just to breathe.

"――――――――" I can't keep my consciousness. I'll fall asleep if I let my guard down. …No, first of all, I'm not too sure if I'm conscious or not. I don't know how I got home from that rooftop nor why I came home.

…My thoughts become vague. The only sure thing is my thumping heart.

"――――――――" …Tohsaka told me to not involve myself. Because I'm powerless and I don't have a reason to fight anymore.

"――――――――" But that's wrong. I knew more than anyone that I'm powerless. My reason to fight is something different.

…I can't let it become just a scar. Losing against others is inevitable. I'm used to being beat up, and it's vexing, but I know I can't reach them no matter what I do.

But that's only when my enemy is someone else. I can't lose against myself. There's no element that would make me lose if our powers are equal. To admit defeat against such an enemy is to declare that I'm wrong.

"――――――――!" The wound distorts. Blood stains the bandage.

"Ah――――, ――――!" I grab it with my left hand and glare at the darkness. The memory from ten years ago… The words of the man who was my father…

…Even if I was wrong from the start, there is nothing wrong with the path I took. I wanted to be a superhero so that incident wouldn't just become a sad memory. A time where everyone would be happy and shed no tears. I have held that ideal for ten years.

" Then…" It doesn't matter how badly my head refuses to function. What needs to be done is determined from the start. I didn't fight because I became a Master. I decided to fight because it's something I can do, and I believed it's something I have to do. I finally remember the obvious.

"――――Tohsaka, no matter how much you tell me…" If I believe it is right, I will believe in this path until the very end. I won't stop, and I won't let her fight by herself.

…That's why I will sleep now. I won't let her call me a burden. I'll heal this wound up in one night. And when I wake up in the morning――――

…And when I wake up in the morning… I'll catch up to her for sure and repay her for what she did that night――――

12th Day- moonlight(II)

Interlude 12-1

The stone room is illuminated by the morning sun. The light coming in from the ceiling pushes back the darkness. Every entrance and every window is sealed off, but even that cannot block out the sunlight. Even the place that should be covered in darkness benefits from the break of dawn.

"――――Haa――――ah――――"

Entrances and windows are ordinarily used to let things enter and leave. The cracks cannot be covered, and besides, if it is entirely closed off, it cannot fulfill its duty to be used as a passage. If one wants to completely shut out the light, there should not be any entrances. If one prefers darkness, one should go to an underground place without a way to return.

"Hm――――, ah――――"

In that regard, this underground temple is not perfect. Light exposes all secrets without reservation. The hidden temple was easily discovered, and its master was easily eliminated as well. There are traces of blood on the floor. The original owner of this temple was killed by an intruder. The supervisor of the Holy Grail War, Kotomine Kirei, was removed from the stage by Caster's hand.

"Kuh…… ah, hah……――――"

That battle happened a few hours ago. The underground regained its silence. The new master of the church is standing in the darkness. But the winner scorns herself. Caster glares at the darkness with an irritated look.

First of all, this temple is unpleasant. Neither the sanctuary nor the secret sanctuary hidden beneath it suit her taste. The intruding light is unpleasant, and the priest she killed was unpleasant as well. And most importantly, the crucial objective has not been accomplished yet. She is shocked at how poorly things are going, and she even considers reducing this whole place to ashes.

"Fu―――――, haa…… ah."

Fortunately, she refrains from such violence. It is not because she regained her composure, nor is it because of respect towards the church.

She suppressed her emotion only because of this sound. Faint, periodic sounds. A woman's painful voice is like fine music to her. She forgets her troubles and enjoys the spectacle.

"Hm―――! Ah, haa, ah……!"

The groaning sounds of pain come from a girl. The weak murmur contains heated arousal. The groans would inspire either compassion or sadistic pleasure in those who may hear them. It does not need to be said that she falls under the latter category. Sweat drips down her forehead. Just watching the beautiful lips, gasping in shame, seems to bring heat to this cold room.

"―――You are doing very well, Saber. I would never have expected you to resist the Command Spell for a whole night." She talks with delight.

"Hm――――Hm, ah――――" At the back of the temple… The girl hangs, only able to moan. As long as she opposes the Command Spell, free will does not exist for Saber.

Worse still, a magic so strong that it is visible tortures Saber's body. The Command Spell pressures her from the inside and Caster's magic tortures her from the outside. The torture is more unbearable than having her body wounded.

"――――Ah, ahh, hm……!"

Saber's reasoning has already been melted away. Only the last remnants of her pride hold her back. Neither the Command Spell nor Caster's magic can take away that deep root.

Therefore, the torture continues forever. Caster watches the process――――how the girl desperately tries to hold her ground. It was Caster that dressed her in this white costume. It is not arousing with her armor, and most of all, the armor does not suit her. If she is an untainted virgin, she should be in a pure white dress when she falls.

"…Fufu. How brave of you. No matter how much you resist with your will, that Servant body of yours is different. You can tell that the Command Spell is slowly infringing on your mind, right? You will be mine in less than a day. In that case, is it not easier to give up now and become mine?"

"――――Kuh, hm……!" The voice protests painfully. Even though her reasoning is melted, Saber does not yield to Caster. As Caster says, she will endure this torture until the Command Spell fully controls her body.

"You are stubborn, Saber. …But I shall forgive you. I like girls like you. That golden hair, small body, the boyish gallant figure, everything is so cute. And I love your loyalty for trying to choose death over betrayal. ―――Really, I want to step on you and crush you."

She looks at the girl with eyes filled with joy and hatred. If Caster put her mind to it, she could get Saber to surrender in an instant. Saber's freedom is lost from fighting one Command Spell. Then, the result is obvious if Caster uses a second Command Spell. Saber will become Caster's without the need for such torture.

"Kuh… Haa, ah――――!" But she will not do such an inelegant thing. Caster should take time training her, since she is a lovely toy. For Caster, Saber is a tool with first-class appearance and ability. It is natural for her to savor this rare jewel.

"…Yes. It is boring to control your body using the Command Spell. I will have you become my Servant out of your own will. …Yes, I will destroy your mind before your body." Caster glares with bewitching eyes at the girl in the white dress. She almost forgets about the Holy Grail. She thinks about Saber's white skin and imagines transforming her into a slave that only seeks pleasure.

―――She will make the girl into a tainted slave to her lusts. She will not do something crude like taking her virginity. She is a virgin. Then she should make her into a virgin that drowns in pleasure. A girl whose body will never be satisfied, greedily seeking pleasure… When she imagines it and smiles…

"What are you doing there, Caster?" An unemotional voice suddenly calls her from behind.

"――――!?" She turns around immediately. Above the temple… Someone slowly comes down the stairs that lead outside. A tall, lean figure appears from the darkness. There is no sound of footsteps, nor is there any presence to be felt. The man comes down into the temple and shows no emotion even after seeing the blood on the ground and the girl.

"――――Souichirou-sama." Caster changes her attitude right away. Her expression changes from one filled with joy and irritation to that of a tense Servant.

"Why are you here…? I believe I asked you to stay at the Ryudou Temple." "I questioned you first, Caster. I asked you what you are doing here."

The man―――Kuzuki Souichirou does not change the tone of his voice. The flat voice is more terrifying than any threat. A voice without emotion is like a mirror. A guilty conscience. The voice is more fearful to those with greater guilt. One is questioned not by Kuzuki, but by one's own mind.

"――――!" Caster holds her hands on her chest and reports to Kuzuki. He is not one that can be fooled. No, she cannot bear to tell a lie to this person.

"I have taken away a Servant last night from one of the Masters, Emiya Shirou. …I let Emiya Shirou go, but he is no longer a Master. If he is smart, he should not oppose us anymore."

"I see. But I have not given such an order." "I acted arbitrarily, Master. After that, I attacked the church to obtain the 'vessel' of the Holy Grail. I have killed the priest, the caretaker of the Holy Grail, but the Grail's whereabouts are unknown." "That was your decision as well, huh? You must not have returned because you could not find the Holy Grail. …Hm. But it is a place you obtained after much trouble. It would be meaningless to abandon it without finding what you are after."

Kuzuki's words are not criticizing her. But Caster can only be ashamed of herself. She killed the priest who knew where the Holy Grail was, but she still does not have the Holy Grail. Furthermore, she has revealed her own action which should have been hidden from him. What else can she call it but a total failure?

"I understand the situation. Can you explain why you did this, Caster?" "…I am sorry. But this is all for you, Master. My goal is to lead you to victory. I have no other reason." "――――――――" A long silence. After hearing Caster's declaration, Kuzuki Souichirou murmurs, "I see".

"Then I cannot move away from here. Your troubles will be for nothing if other Masters find the Holy Grail while we are absent." "Then, Master…" "You can search this place until you are satisfied. I shall remain here until you are done. You alone are not fit for fighting. You will need a guard until Saber is under your control."

"Huh―――? N-No, there is no need for that. I do not need your help, and I do not know how long the search will take. And this place is dangerous. You will be safer if you return to the Ryudou Temple." "That is true. But if I do that, I cannot fulfill my objective."

"?" Those words are unexpected even for Caster. What kind of an objective does this man have, who has no interest even in the Holy Grail which can grant any wish?

"Souichirou-sama, then…" "Hurry. I do not care if it is not here. Just make sure you come up with a clear result." With that, Kuzuki goes back up the stairs. "――――――――" Caster watches him go in blank amazement. The dark room is still silent. The footsteps going up the stairs still cannot be heard.

End Of Interlude

"―――――――" I open my eyes. My eyes are not the only things that wake up, as my sleeping mind wakes up as well.

"The wound is――――not a problem." I check the wound on my left shoulder. It still hurts, but there's no intense pain like last night. The heat in my body has gone away somewhat. It shouldn't be a problem for me to move around.

I eat breakfast and satisfy my hunger. Food comes before anything else. My body won't move unless it gets the nutrition it needs.

"――――All right." I reapply the bandage. The wound has turned dark blue. It hasn't healed up, and I can see fresh red meat.

"―――Of course. Saber's not here." I disinfect it, put gauze over it, and wrap bandages around it. It's a primitive first-aid treatment to wrap and constrict the wound, but I have to do this so it won't get any worse. "All done. I'll need a weapon now."

It's cloudy today. It must be really cold, as there is frost on the grass outside.

"――――――――" But that's meaningless to me. I feel no cold. My body is burning and I want to pour ice water over myself. But this is much better than the condition I was in last night.

The only things I can find are wooden swords. I choose the one that looks like it is the best and put it into my shinai bag.

I slap my cheeks. I don't know if it's to encourage myself or to reassure myself that I won't be coming back here. I honestly don't know why I did that.

I carry the shinai bag over my right shoulder and head outside. The place I've lived at for so long. The shed was like my own room, but I don't turn to look at it.

――――Well. Even though I've decided to fight, there are many problems. I have to determine clearly what I should do first, or I'll probably end up not getting anything done. …There is only one course of action.

[somebodyssherlock-heterodyne]

SHDJSJSJDHDEJU THE CLINGY ROBES.

I also feel like Huaisang makes a point of shopping in Yiling because everything he buys there is either going to protect him from all harm or indestructible enough to be used to protect him from all harm. This very quickly transforms into the entire Nie sect buying all their shit from the City of Invention, because it's the one place that makes pretty furniture no amount of qi deviation rage can break. Originally the vibe was "Mingjue reluctantly allows his little brother to go flounce around with the demonic cultivators" until someone threw a saber during training and it hit Huaisang's open fan and bounced. Now it's "Huaisang would really like to be able to travel to Yiling ever without his older brother coming along to distract all his friends with promises of Da-ge Hugs" (Da-ge Hugs are considered valid currency by Wei Wuxian and his disciples. They have a system of exchange designating hug value and the hug price of various things. Jiang Cheng says it's the stupidest thing he's ever heard of but everyone knows he's jealous).

Wangji breaks a teacup when Lan Qiren mentions the truly astounding number of marriage proposals Wei Wuxian has been receiving (the only two Nie sect people who haven't thrown their hats in the ring are Mingjue, who thinks WWX is too young, and Huaisang, who knows that Wangji would kill him without hesitation or remorse). Xichen immediately suggests buying a tea set from Yiling to avoid this happening in the future. Every time Xichen brings out the Yiling Tea Set, Wangji knows he's about get news he will absolutely hate (usually news about the latest round of people throwing their hats in the ring of courting the Yiling Patriarch). At one point Wangji gets sad-angry enough about Wei Wuxian (who is convinced Wangji could never forgive him for turning demonic cultivation into something a respectable sect leader does, because he's an idiot) not even writing to him that he throws one of the teacups at the wall just to see if it'll make him feel better. Xichen pointedly leaves the dent there afterwards.

Jin Ling is an insufferable brat about being invincible until he's on a night hunt and the monster attacks him, fails, and turns on his comrades. One frantic flight with a heavily bleeding Lan Jingyi later, Wen Qing has a patient who will make a full recovery and Wei Wuxian has a nephew who is still crying because his RIVAL they're not friends they're RIVALS almost died right in front of him. Jin Ling goes from being an insufferable brat to being a somehow even more insufferable mother hen. He goes to Yiling once a month to collect the general protection charms the disciples make the same way other people might fidget with a teacup. There are always at least enough of them to fill a bathtub. Jin Ling then goes on a nighthunt with his bucket of protection charms and refuses to go out until everyone he's with is wearing at least ten. They end up looking like the protection charm equivalent of Jin Ling being in a perfectly tailored custom made hand embroidered suit with artfully placed matching jewelry while all his friends are COVERED in rubber bracelets and those plastic bead necklaces everyone wears a million of during Mardi Gras. Jingyi complains to his idol (and the only adult in the sect who isn't Xichen that he will listen to) about this. Wangji sees this for the golden excuse it is and promptly escorts Jingyi to Yiling so he can personally commission an obnoxiously large collection of protection spelled objects in Lan colors to rival Jin Ling's. Lan Qiren is pleased his nephew is so diligent in ensuring that Jingyi doesn't get eaten, bewitched, taught demonic cultivation, or accidentally engaged (again). And he's going to personally oversee the process of Wei Wuxian making all this stuff for his sort of nephew sort of child (I firmly believe that in the absence of Sizhui Wangji adopts Jingyi, or rather he mopes until Jingyi adopts him). Xichen is fully aware that Wangji is going to spend the whole time mooning over his crush.

Wangji keeps extending his stay so he can spend more time pining. This has the effect of more people finding the time to make things for Jingyi, who has long been their spokesperson in the Lan sect and can now finally prove to every stuffy jerk back home that he was RIGHT, the Wei sect is AWESOME, don't you see his indestructible robes?

Jingyi is Very Smug about his new massive collection of protection enchantment everything. Jin Ling is infuriated, how dare this horrible Lan gremlin trick his da-jiu into making him all this stuff (he's going through a phase where he's convinced Wei Wuxian can do absolutely no wrong, less because he believes it and more because it irritates Jiang Cheng and everyone in Jinlintai to no end).

Ouyang Zizhen won't stop visiting Yiling and writing books about the adventures of Wei Wuxian and all of his disciples, as well as the Ghost General. He's even got a series about Wen Qing going, which she freely indulges him in because no matter how purple his prose is he always checks with her to make sure he doesn't spread one bit of misinformation on medical matters. Wen Ning is incredibly flustered about being written about like he's a warrior of legendary powerful strength and even more powerful kindness. Wangji Absolutely Does Not have a copy of every single installment ever made in Tales From Yiling, what are you talking about, he has no idea who keeps telling Zizhen every story they know about Wei Wuxian's time in Cloud Recesses.

Zizhen's book series serves several purposes: better relations between his sect and Yiling, given how he's now known as that hopeless romantic kid who will stop at nothing to make sure everyone knows how awesome our awesome sect leader is, better reputation for the Wei sect, and being something he can start enthusiastically rambling about whenever he wants Sect Leader Yao to stop talking to him. And also he's penpals with Hanguang-jun and BFFs with Jingyi.

(At Jin Ling's behest he starts a series about Jiang Cheng so Jin Ling can be the uncontested winner of giving Jiang Cheng birthday presents that year. Jiang Cheng is not ecstatic to be featured in his favorite author's work, shut up, he'll break your legs if you keep asking.)

Jumping off my Wei Sect As Mad Inventors post from a while ago

I’m thinking about the bracelet Wei Wuxian made for Jin Ling’s 100 days, and while obviously his was an exceptionally powerful one, I feel like protective amulets and such are a great like. “Baby’s first project” type thing? Something all the little baby disciples practice making when they’re starting off.

And of course, if you’ve got a community where Literally Everyone Knows The Basics Of This Thing, then you also inevitably have a community where Literally Everyone Also Gets Weird With This Thing. You end up with people making all sorts of crazy charms and amulets that do all sorts of things, partially because everybody is lowkey competing to see who can make the Best and partially because it’s a fairly safe medium through which to test your ideas before you apply them to (more powerful but also significantly more volatile) talismans and arrays.

Which means everybody ends up with stacks and stacks of these things. A lot of them get sold, of course. It’s a good way to turn a buck. However, I like to think that a bunch of little disciples all running around wearing bracelets up to their elbows and layers of necklaces come up with. A different sort of tradition.

Am I saying the Wei Sect disciples go full-on PLUR kandi trades/gifts when they make new friends in other sects? Yes. Yes I am.

[vvitchering]

tbobf kinda already invalidated a lot of my "Din participating in Boba's court" ideas, but when has canon ever stopped me before huh

Anyway Din being "hired" on as the scary intimidating background guy who only occasionally has to put his hand on his blaster and take a half step forward before whoever caused the offense is cowering back and begging for forgiveness. ("Hired" because Boba keeps trying to pay Din for his time but Din keeps refusing the credits, the noble bastard) It's not that any of them think that, somehow, between his reputation and his own charismatic aura, Boba can't keep control of his court himself. It's more that two fully armored Mandalorians send a stronger message than one.

They're trying to work smarter, not harder.

Besides, Din needed purpose (and a place to lick his wounds) and it soothes the honorable part of Boba's soul that tells him their deal still isn't done. That Boba still owes him something, anything, to fill the child-sized gap in Din's life. Providing safe haven and a steady job is the least he can do.

And, less altruistically, he can't say he doesn't enjoy watching how quickly insolence turns to simpering terror when Din steps forward out of the shadows behind Boba's throne to take his place at the king's side. It might have bruised his ego, once upon a time, but he's older now and it all works in his favor anyway, so he can't really summon up the energy to give a shit if people find Din scarier than him.

There's something about being one of the privileged few to really know Din beyond his beskar that makes the intimidation factor fascinating, as well.

Beneath their armor, Boba and Din couldn't be less alike. Where Boba spent his life in pursuit of things like revenge and notoriety, Din spent his desperately fighting to stay beneath the entire galaxy's radar. The armor is as much a barrier between Din's true personality and the world as it is a physical one. Beneath the beskar, Boba was surprised to find a quiet and gentle man, almost demure in his mannerisms, with a keen practical sort of intelligence that didn't seem to extend very far into social matters. Luckily for Din, all of his one word answers, impolite staring, and clipped almost droid-like speech patterns tended to translate as intimidating rather than awkward, when coupled with the severe t-visor helmet and the broad pauldrons on his shoulders.

Luckier still was that Din had the skills to back up that image he'd created for himself.

Perhaps "luck" wasn't the right term, Boba muses, watching yet another previously rudely arrogant visitor fall over himself to bow before him and spew panicked apologies. Din stands at attention, just a foot or so past the edge of the throne, fingers tapping a rhythm against the saber at his hip, looking every inch the legendary deadly hunter that he is.

The cretin who insulted Boba just moments ago bows and scrapes their way out of the throne room under Din's watchful eye. It used to be Fennec's job to put the fear of the Maker into any unruly visitors. But she hates talking to idiots almost as much as Boba does and Din takes care of the problems without ever having to say a word. Fennec is gone from Boba's side, away on a mission, but Boba can almost see her leaning over to elbow him in the side for how blatantly he's enjoying Din's little show. She's always been perceptive like that.

"That was a bit much, don't you think?" Boba says, stretching his arms over his head until his sore joints pop.

Din huffs through his vocoder and steps back to his place beside the throne, relaxed, fingers stuck back in his belt.

"Maybe so." he agrees easily.

Boba barks out a laugh. Din couldn't be easier to read if he tried.

"You wanted to rip his kriffing head off, admit it."

Din shrugs, shifting to lean slightly against the throne, bringing him closer to Boba's side. Boba knows its stupid, there's no way he'd be able to feel Din through both of their armor, but he feels warmed nonetheless.

"I've heard much worse in my time, Djarin." Boba continues, quietly. "But your concern is...appreciated."

"Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadass'la." Din recites.

Boba's Mando'a is rusty with disuse, but he knows that saying.

"Din--"

"You are more than the circumstances of your birth. You're not just another man's legacy. And you were wrong, by the way."

"Wrong? About what?" Boba asks, bemused.

"I didn't want to rip that shabuir's head off. I wanted to cut his tongue out. The honor of the kill goes to you."

Boba stares, at a loss for words.

For all his gentleness, Din still has the heart of a warrior. He radiates fierce protectiveness for those he loves. People he considers family, clan. To Boba, it feels like standing with his face turned up towards the twin suns, bright and all encompassing.

Boba hasn't felt that kind of warmth since the Tuskens. Since Jango. Hadn't thought he ever would again, hadn't wanted to.

It feels good.

"Thank you." He manages, unsure of what else to say in the moment.

Din slowly inclines his head. As he turns away to begin surveying the room, the mudhorn signet on his pauldron catches the dim light.

It's been a long while since Boba Fett was part of a clan. It's been a long while since he's dared to want such a thing. Din makes him want things for himself. A dangerous risk. But one he thinks he might be ready to take again.

---

"Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadass'la." A Mandalorian saying that translates to "Nobody cares who your father was, only the father you'll be." Less literally, its meaning is along the lines of your lineage meaning less than what you make of yourself. The cowardly vistor who insults Boba in this story made some stupid comment about Boba being a clone and not worthy of respect because of that (I couldn't figure out how to directly say that so I just implied as heavily as I could lol), so I thought this phrase would be a good fit for the situation.

Shabuir roughly means something like "son of a bitch" from my understanding

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: what if jc was lxc's age (and jyl maybe 2 or 3 years older) and wwx was lwj's/nhs' age when he was brought to lotus pier? (Or anything that involves a much bigger age gap bw the jiang sibs and wwx - where wwx is babey)

Untamed

“You know what,” Jiang Cheng said to his sister, who looked at him. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not marrying a woman.”

Jiang Yanli’s lips started twitching uncontrollably and she hid her smile behind her sleeve. “Oh?”

“Nope. I’m going to marry Chifeng-zun.”

“On the basis of…?”

“If you take two adult men in charge of two Great Sects,” Jiang Cheng said, doing his utmost best to keep a straight face, “with all the power we can generate between us, we might – maybe – have a chance at disciplining our baby brothers.”

Jiang Yanli burst out laughing.

“There, there. It’s all right,” he said, grinning, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. “You can join us if you’d like. There’s enough room in Qinghe for two wives.”

“We are not both running away to Qinghe,” she said, giggling. “A-Cheng!”

“What? I think it’s a great idea. If our parents want us back, they can negotiate with Chifeng-zun for it – may they have more luck than they had with the whole medicinal herb debacle.”

“A-Cheng, I am officially tabling this idea,” Jiang Yanli said, still snorting. “Older sibling privilege.”

“I let you out of the womb first as a matter of courtesy,” Jiang Cheng sniffed. “And now you use it against me? A-Li, how could you?”

“Call me jiejie! It doesn’t matter how much older, a few shichen or a few years, older is still older.”

“You probably elbowed me with those sharp pointy things you have on your arms. Weapons of war.”

“Older is older!” she sang. “Now tell me, what did A-Xian do this time?”

“Would you like it in chronological order, or in order of severity? I can also group it by theme, if you prefer.”

“Oh no,” Jiang Yanli said, covering her eyes. “Oh no.”

“And the chief-most theme,” Jiang Cheng said, continuing anyway, “is still called Lan Wangji.”

“Oh no!”

“He has the worst crush,” Jiang Cheng said, shaking his head with endless amusement. “And he just – refuses to admit it. ‘Nooooo, shixiong, we’re just friends, he can’t even stand me most of the time, he’s always trying to get me in trouble, but sometimes he lets me sit next to him and spend time with him and he’s so handsome and I really just want to make him laugh –’”

“We have,” Jiang Yanli said thoughtfully, “raised an idiot.”

“He was fine when we got him,” Jiang Cheng disagreed. “We have spoiled an idiot.”

“This is true. Maybe we should go form a mutual complaining society with Chifeng-zun; isn’t his little brother also an idiot?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Jiang Cheng said. “Worse: they’ve teamed up. Nie Huaisang buys Wei Wuxian porn now.”

“Oh no…”

“In return for help cheating on his tests!”

“Oh no!”

“So that’s why I’m going to marry Chifeng-zun,” Jiang Cheng concluded. “Our parents may be disappointed by my decision, but with our powers combined, we might be able to save the world from our respective younger idiots.”

“Maybe,” she said, and shook her head. “A-Cheng – about our parents…”

Jiang Cheng shook his head as well, echoing her action but more in denial. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that she took after their father and he took after their mother, that she was born a shichen prior to midnight and he a shichen after and their personalities completely different as a result; it was no one’s fault that their parents didn’t get along, with their mother disdaining what she perceived as Jiang Yanli’s passiveness and lack of passion and their father despising Jiang Cheng’ prickly temper and difficulty communicating his affection without scolding.

It certainly wasn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault for being younger and more brilliant, talented at everything he did and with just the sort of personality their father liked best – the combination of his former best friend and the girl he’d once thought of marrying – and that he’d always made that preference very clear to everyone, even to their mother who often worried that her husband would dispossess her children in favor of his foundling and who lashed out at everyone in response.

That had hurt – hurt a lot, even, and Jiang Cheng was soft and sensitive underneath all his defensive layers, but any time he got angry over it he would look at Wei Wuxian, their little A-Xian, baby Xianxian, who adored his older siblings more than anything and was adored in return, and he forced himself to get over it. He was old enough, by the time Wei Wuxian arrived, to know to whom the blame really belonged.

“I spoke with Nie Huaisang while I was at the Cloud Recesses,” Jiang Cheng said in an undertone, one reserved just for his sister. “He’s asked me to pass along a message to his brother, the next time I go night-hunting, about the whole debacle – he’s so terribly apologetic, you understand, he couldn’t wait for the post – if we get to Qinghe by tomorrow, Chifeng-zun will be able to get to Gusu in time to intervene before our father does something wretched like cancel your engagement and take A-Xian home early from his studies.”

“The engagement I wouldn’t mind,” she remarked. “If Jin Zixuan feels so strongly about it that he’d get into a fistfight with A-Xian, it’s better not to marry, no matter what our mother might think. But on no account is A-Xian to be sent home early! He needs his education!”

Unsaid was everything else he needed, things he could get better at the Cloud Recesses than anywhere else.

“Then we go?”

“We go,” she agreed. Between the two of them, Jiang Cheng had more talent at cultivation, but she was steadier, even in her overall mediocrity: when the two of them flew on a sword together, they could make it much further and faster than anyone expected.

Qinghe wasn’t really close enough for a quick jaunt – they flew all night without stopping – but Chifeng-zun was amendable to their scheme, jumping at once onto his saber and making his way straight to Gusu. A waste of spiritual energy all around, really, but far faster than their father would move, with his Sect Leader’s dignity and retinue, rushing to the Cloud Recesses to save his precious little Wei Wuxian from having any connections in life that weren’t to the Jiang sect, and the Jiang sect alone. 

And never mind how much he needed those connections: needed to have friends his own age, needed to have more time with that crush of his, needed independence and freedom and everything the Jiang sect supposedly stood for - needed for them to support him and act as the foundation beneath his feet, rather than the chains tying him down to earth.

Chifeng-zun – who was only a few years older than they were – was really a very understanding person, getting the problem at once and immediately agreeing with their view on things. Perhaps there really was something to be said about the difference in generations…

“Let me show you to rooms where you can rest,” Chifeng-zun’s aide said, a slender young man with a polite smile on his face as he saluted. “I’ll arrange for refreshments as well.”

“We hate to trouble you, but in all honesty you are a lifesaver,” Jiang Yanli said to him warmly, and he unexpectedly flushed red at the cheeks. “A-Cheng, let’s follow this handsome young man and rest a while before we return to the Lotus Pier.”

The young man was blushing.

“What’s your name?” Jiang Cheng asked, and the blush faded away at once as the man paled a little: it would be one he expected them to recognize, then, and not in a good way.

“This one is Meng Yao,” he said, and saluted again even though he’d already saluted once before, and Jiang Yanli’s eyes flickered to Jiang Cheng’s very briefly before she caught his arms and raised him up.

“I’ve heard of you. Smart and talented enough to get Chifeng-zun’s attention, even so far as becoming his personal deputy - you must be brilliant. Truly, you deserve a better father,” she told him, and he stared up at her, dumbstruck.

“Don’t mind her,” Jiang Cheng said. “She’s trying out this new thing in which she says everything she feels without thinking first.”

She elbowed him. “And isn’t it your fault?” she asked snappishly. “You’re the one who needs to speak your mind more; I’m just modeling good behavior!”

If she’d been older than him – really older, rather than just a few shichen – maybe she would have held her tongue more and played the role of the peacekeeper, trying to protect him from his father’s indifference the way she had tried to when they were both younger, just as he had tried to distract his mother from her with his hard-fought accomplishments. It wasn’t until they had little Wei Wuxian to spoil and care for, a joint task that required both of their attention, that they realized that splitting their forces like that was pointless and self-defeating: it wasn’t actually helping that Jiang Yanli suppressed so much of her spirit until she felt like little more than a reflective mirror with no content, nor that Jiang Cheng nearly worked himself to death trying to prove that he was worthy of his father’s love and respect that he would never receive, and it never would.

So they stopped.

They were trying very hard to stop, anyway.

“You’re very kind,” Meng Yao murmured, and led them to their rooms.

The moment he closed the door behind him, Jiang Yanli turned to Jiang Cheng and said, “I’ve changed my mind about your plan – we can run away to Qinghe. You marry Chifeng-zun, and I’ll marry that charming boy out there.”

There was an audible thudding sound from the corridor outside, as if someone had accidentally walked into a wall, and they both grinned at each other.

“Mother would kill you,” he warned her in an undertone.

“And being married to someone who disdains me enough to fight over my worthlessness in public wouldn’t?” she retorted, smiling even though her expression was tinged with pain: if she had one ambition in life, it was to never become their mother. “The marriage agreement might have been forged by our mothers, but the text of it says ‘the Jin sect leader’s son to the Jiang sect leader’s daughter’. Why can’t I marry him?”

“He hasn’t been acknowledged.”

“Only technically. Everyone knows he’s the real deal, or else his father wouldn’t have made such a fuss about it.”

“But –”

“Anyway, he must be a good man, or Chifeng-zun wouldn’t have promoted him.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jiang Cheng said. “Chifeng-zun doesn’t have the sense of self-preservation the heavens bestowed on a lemming.”

There was a vaguely audible snort from outside their door. It seemed Meng Yao, at least, had the good sense not to leave guests in his house unattended, and no discrimination against the very useful business of listening at doors.

He also had a sense of humor, which was good given Jiang Yanli’s newfound ambitions in his regard.

“Yes, well, I wasn’t saying I’d elope with him tomorrow or anything,” she sniffed, eyes dancing. “Give him some time to prove himself to me.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s true,” he said, raising his voice a little. “At Chifeng-zun’s side, he’ll be able to make a name for himself until the whispers all say that his father was an idiot for keeping him away.”

“And if even that doesn’t work, I’ll marry him in and make him help me run the Jiang sect,” she said cheerfully. “Who needs Lanling Jin?”

“Wait, since when are you inheriting the Jiang sect?”

“I’m older! And anyway, aren’t you marrying Chifeng-zun? That means you’ll be away helping run his sect, and that leaves an opening at home for me.”

“…huh. Good point.”

“Maybe you can just swap places with Meng Yao,” she said, starting to giggle again. “And we can all see how long it takes anyone to notice…”

“Our parents might not,” Jiang Cheng said dryly. “But Chifeng-zun would. If only because I have my sights set on his bed, and I don’t think Meng Yao does.”

“You don’t know that; everyone wants Chifeng-zun. Maybe you have competition.”

“Better to have competition than be oblivious. Do you want to hear the whole story about A-Xian and Lan Wangji’s tragic mutual pining disaster? Xichen-xiong told me all the details he’s been leaving out of his letters.”

“Tell me everything!”

[gravitywonagain]

Can't Cheat Death While You're Digging Your Own Grave; Part 2

[Part 1] I didn't abandon it, look! Now with [Part 3]

What if Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian were closer? Sworn brothers, even? What if NHS visited WWX in Yiling?

Prompt from the wonderful @shiranai-atsune

[T (for now?), implied Wangxian, 3.5k, 2/?]

~

Nie Huaisang:

The solution was obvious. So obvious that Nie Huaisang was a little annoyed that he seemed to be the only one who saw it. 

In fairness to everybody else, there was a lot going on and not everybody even knew there was a problem that required a solution. But Nie Huaisang didn’t feel like being fair to anyone when his brother was dying. And not only was he dying, but he wouldn’t admit he was dying. He wouldn’t change a single thing even though they both knew that his saber was slowly killing him. 

To make matters worse, the entire cultivation world had somehow conspired against the only hope for his survival and stranded the two of them on a mountain of corpses in the middle of fucking nowhere. Okay, technically it was in the outskirts of Yunmeng, but the point remained. 

Nie Huaisang, however, was nothing if not proactive. Don’t ask anyone to corroborate that, but he was. Da-ge knew of his competence, and that was what mattered. 

There were, after all, multiple reasons he was left in charge of the Unclean Realm’s resources during the Sunshot Campaign. Reasons that had little to do with his refusal to pick up his saber. Reasons that resulted in a very effective hospital, if he did say so himself. 

His brother was very aware of his covert brand of brilliance. Which was good. Because he really needed his brother to hear him out. And he would definitely not want to hear him out about this. 

Da-ge was sweaty and smiling when Nie Huaisang found him, Baxia laid gently across his lap as he tended to her edge with all of his attention. He was relaxed in the way he only was after losing all his breath and working himself into near exhaustion. Training always made Da-ge feel powerful and centered. It was the cleanest exercise he got -- at least outside of visits from Er-ge and San-ge. 

Which was why Nie Huaisang waited to search him out until the early afternoon. He wanted Da-ge to be calm and happily exerted, which could be a detriment to one of Nie Huaisang’s arguments, but would leave him in the best state of mind to hear out Nie Huaisang’s plan. 

“Da-ge!”

“Sang’er.”

There’s a warmth to Da-ge’s voice when he’s happy. It’s a good sound. A sound like fresh soil for planting flowers. 

Nie Huaisang skipped his way over to his brother and sat himself down on the stone stair next to him. 

He smiled and said, “You look relaxed.”

Da-ge raised an eyebrow and replied, “You look calculating.”

Nie Huaisang huffed at that. This was the danger of being known, of course. This is the reason Nie Huaisang pretends to be an idiot in front of other people. When people don’t know that you’re clever enough to be calculating, they never accuse you of it! 

He pouted at Da-ge, but it was no use. 

Hands still moving in long, confident strokes, Da-ge looked up and dismissed the rest of the disciples in the training yard. 

The disciples moved at once, not wanting to get involved in an argument between the brothers. Nie Zonghui set a hand on Nie Huaisang’s shoulder as he passed by, leaving swiftly after a comforting squeeze. 

“What do you want, Sang’er?” 

Da-ge’s eyes returned to Baxia, but Nie Huaisang had no doubt he had his brother’s attention. 

“I have a solution to our problems,” he said, a simple kind of delight affecting his tone. 

“What problems?”

“See,” Nie Huaisang flapped his fan lightly, “I knew you would say that, because you always say that whenever I try to bring this up.”

“Huaisang.” It was almost a groan. Nie Huaisang hated when his name was a groan. 

He deflected, “But your cultivation is only one of the problems I’m about to solve for us.”

“And the other?”

He couldn’t help himself, quirking his head to the side like a magpie, “So you admit it’s a problem?”

“Sang’er.” Another groan. This time edged with chastisement, which was even worse. 

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes, but pressed on. “The other is Wei Wuxian.”

At this, Da-ge froze. His hands stilled, whetstone hovering a paper’s width over Baxia’s blade. Then, slow as a mountain, Da-ge turned to face Nie Huaisang with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. 

“You have a way to kill him?” he asked. 

“Da-ge! No!” Honestly, Nie Huaisang shouldn’t have been surprised. And he wasn’t, not really. But he had forgotten -- briefly -- in all of his scheming that Wei Wuxian was on that stupid mountain of corpses because people wanted to kill him. Apparently those people included Da-ge, which was something Nie Huaisang, again, knew, but had, momentarily, forgotten. 

He brightened his smile and said, “I have a way to save him.”

Confusion spilled over Da-ge’s features. “Save him?” he asked. “From what?”

Nie Huaisang sighed, “Himself, mostly,” and got a chuckle out of Da-ge. 

“You’re a bit late for that.”

“Maybe, but maybe not,” he shrugged. “I want to bring him here.”

Anger came next. This Nie Huaisang was expecting. This he was quite prepared for. So when Da-ge began to shout, “You want to--” Nie Huaisang was quick to cut him off before he could work himself into a frenzy. 

“Him and the refugees he’s protecting,” he said, channeling as much certainty into the words as he could and backing them with his own brand of Nie stubbornness. 

“The Wens he’s protecting,” Da-ge shot back. 

But Nie Huaisang didn’t budge. “Yes.” 

“Why?” 

Good. Good; leave it to his brother to know that there was a reason. That this wasn’t just some frivolous idea. This, Nie Huaisang would acknowledge, is why you do show some people how clever and capable you are. 

“Wei Wuxian,” he starts, leaving behind all pretense of flightiness in his voice and in his body language, “is the world’s foremost expert on resentful energy and Wen Qing is a medical genius who treated Wen Ruohan for years.” He did not stop as his brother’s eyes narrowed further at the mention of Wen Qing and her uncle. He continued, “They are wasted living in the Burial Mounds, farming radishes in soil fertilized by human corpses.” 

“Wasted?” Da-ge’s voice quivered with suppressed rage. “They should both be dead!” Barely suppressed. 

“He’s the hero of the Sunshot Campaign!” Nie Huaisang really didn’t understand why people kept forgetting that. 

Sure, he knew that some forgot it conveniently as they used his friend’s villainization toward their own grasps for power, but Da-ge was there. Da-ge saw Wei Wuxian in the aftermath of that final battle, drained and pale after having wrested control of Wen Ruohan’s puppets and turned them against their former master. 

“Meng Yao--”

“Do you really want to bring up San-ge right now, Da-ge?”

Da-ge flinched and deflated a little. Paused, looking down at the massive saber in his hands. “No,” he said after a moment. “But that doesn’t explain why you want to bring an army of demonic cultivators--”

“They’re not an army,” Nie Huaisang said, waving his fan as if he could dismiss the thought from the collective consciousness like fanning smoke from the air. “They’re too old and weak. Common people caught in the conflict.” 

To his credit, Da-ge doesn’t ask how Nie Huaisang knows that. He says instead, “They are Wens.” 

“They are villagers. Not even in the tenth degree of kinship to Wen Ruohan.” 

“The doctor and her brother are his cousins.” 

“They did not take part--”

“And you think that absolves them?” Da-ge stands, Baxia in his grip but flung out wide as he spreads his arms with frustration. “Did you not just say she treated our father’s murderer for years? Why does she deserve our protection?” 

“She helped the Jiang siblings--” 

Anger begins building up in Da-ge’s body. Nie Huaisang can see it like a physical thing. 

“Then let Yunmeng Jiang take her in!” Baxia flares red. “Let them deal with their supposed saviors and their heretic defector!” He swings her back and forth in a small arc as she splutters with their combined power. 

Nie Huaisang needs to calm him down. He needs to separate him from Baxia, but first, he needs to bring his brother back. 

He leans back on one hand, fan fluttering gracefully. He keeps his own voice light, perfectly non-combative, and says, “Jiang Cheng doesn’t have the resources.” Flippant, “Or the balls.” 

The joke lands. Da-ge doesn’t laugh or even smile, but his shoulders relax. He loosens his hold on Baxia’s hilt. Seems to notice her in his hand for the first time. Before there might have been something like worry in his eyes as he looks at her, or an apology on his lips as he looks back to Nie Huaisang. But they are past that now. It is not good, but it is known and they do not waste breath on performative promises that mean nothing. 

Instead, Da-ge sets Baxia down gently and steps away from her; sits on the other side of Nie Huaisang, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“And his lack of balls is my problem somehow?”

Nie Huaisang snaps his fan closed, the closest thing to an acknowledgement either of them will make. 

“Not your problem, no, but it could be our gain.”

His pulse settles out and slips back down into his chest from where he’d felt it lodged in his throat. 

“Gain?” Da-ge asks, incredulous. “What do we stand to gain?” 

Nie Huaisang simply nods, “Wei Wuxian.”

“The demonic cultivator.” 

Now he wants to groan. Is that all his friend is to anyone anymore? “The former first disciple of Yunmeng Jiang,” he says, insistent. “The champion archer. The talismanic genius. Remember all his potential? He was the fourth ranked young master of my generation.” 

“I’d wager that ranking has changed. And it’s not like we can put him back on the Sword Path, Sang’er.” 

“He can’t return to the Sword Path, anyway.” The words leave his mouth almost flippantly and it’s less than a second before he notices but the regret is instantaneous. 

Of course, Da-ge picks up on it immediately. “What do you mean ‘he can’t?’” 

The thing is, he’s not actually sure of this bit. It’s just-- Well, he notices things. But because this isn’t a fact that he knows, it wasn’t one he was going to bring up in this conversation. 

He likes to have confidence in the things he tells Da-ge. It helps maintain his credibility, or whatever. And also doesn’t give Da-ge false information that may put him in a sticky situation if he bases a decision off of it. 

Because of that, he also knows that if he were to tell his brother to let it go, that the information is not reliable yet, that Da-ge would. He would leave it. He would wait. 

But, the other thing is, Nie Huaisang is almost sure of this bit. He would give it ninety percent odds of being true. Higher if his source in Yunmeng isn’t blowing smoke; which she never has yet. 

It’s enough, he decides. 

“Da-ge, he doesn’t have a core.”

“He-- what?!” Da-ge’s eyes go wide as archery targets. His full body turns to face Nie Huaisang, legs shifting, as he fixes Nie Huaisang with the narrowest of narrow-eyed stares he’s ever seen and asks, “How could you possibly know that?”

“I don’t!” Nie Huaisang says, and this time he means it, “I don’t. But the rumors during the war-- You remember, I told you. Rumors of Jiang Wanyin falling to Wen Zhuliu during the massacre of Lotus Pier. Rumors of Wen Chao dropping Wei Wuxian into the Burial Mounds. If Wen Qing, the accomplished doctor that she is, sheltered them…” he remembers the haunted look in his friend’s eyes after he returned, the way he flinched away from touch, the way he avoided Lan Wangji of all people. “The pieces fit and think about it, Da-ge. Why else would he give up his sword?”

Da-ge doesn’t look convinced, yet. His voice is calm as he says, “Men do all kinds of things for great power.” 

Nie Huaisang can’t help himself; he shouts, “He had great power! You’ve seen him! He was Yunmeng Jiang’s head disciple. He went strike for strike with Wangji-xiong. He and Wangji-xiong, alone and injured, defeated the beast under Muxi Mountain!”

Da-ge only shakes his head, “All of that pales in comparison to what he did at Nightless City, Sang’er.” 

“Which he did for us! And we all let him! We encouraged him. We used him!”

“You’re right.” Still so calm. He reaches out an places a hand on Nie Huaisang’s shoulder, just like he used to when they were young and one of Nie Huaisang’s birds had died. “We should never have allowed him to live,” his eyes are dissonantly kind, “but war is a desperate time.”

“And he’s desperate now!” Nie Huaisang feels strangely like the conversation is slipping from his grasp. It sits heavy and awkward in his chest, his emotion welling up and distracting him from the task at hand. So he calms it. He closes his eyes, forces it into a ball, and shoves it down, burning it off inside his golden core, or imagining that he does. 

When he looks back into his brother’s eyes, he is steady. “He helped us then,” he says, voice strong and clear, “and we can help him now.” 

Da-ge looks back, just as steady. “By bringing a demonic cultivator and a bunch of Wens onto our land, Sang’er? No. Absolutely not.”

“They’re farmers, Da-ge. Farmers.”

“Farmers and whatever Wen Qionglin is.”

That is so not the point! “Aiyo, Da-ge! He could save you!”

“Save me? Huaisang, I’m not dying.”

And back into the same old argument they go. Nie Huaisang is beyond tired of it. He refuses to allow his brother to lie to him about this any more. Every time the subject comes up, Nie Mingjue avoids or distracts or prevaricates. They’ve never talked about how Nie Huaisang figured it out; they’ve never talked about what is actually going on; and Nie Huaisang will not let pride or stubbornness kill his brother. Not when he’s finally figured out how to save him. 

“Yes you are.” He allows no room in his words for uncertainty. 

“I’m--”

“You’re going to qi deviate. Like your mother. Like Father.”

“Wen Ruohan--”

“Took a shortcut. We both know Father would have died soon enough anyway.”

Da-ge looks at him with his jaw set. He doesn’t deny it. He can’t deny it, not honestly, and Nie Huaisang will always know if he’s lying -- mostly because he’s exceedingly bad at it. But it’s not like he looks ready to give up, either. 

“And what exactly do you think Wei Wuxian can do about it?” He asks it like a question, but it’s difficult to tell whether or not he actually cares to hear the answer. 

Nie Huaisang gives him one anyway. “It’s inside him, Da-ge, like it’s inside you.”

“The Saber Path is not the Ghost Path, Sang’er.” 

“Ghosts, beasts, what’s the difference?” 

“Do I need to send you back to Lan Qiren a fourth time?” 

He flaps his fan dismissively. “It’s resentment. It’s harmful. It’s not spiritual energy. It might as well be the same thing. And if he can contain it, if Wen Qing-daifu can help him, maybe they can help us.”

The clench of Da-ge’s jaw tightens. He huffs through his nose. “That’s a lot to risk on a maybe.” 

“What risk?” Nie Huaisang asks honestly. “Your life, the lives of every Saber Path cultivator, could be saved!” 

“By an unstable man with wicked cultivation?” 

“He’s unstable because he’s desperate. They’re barely surviving on that mountain.” Nie Huaisang laughs, “He scraped together a cultivation method that defeated Wen Ruohan and ended the war with a few months and no golden core. Imagine what he could do if we gave him time. Shelter. A library. Food.”

“Sang’er--” Da-ge starts, but there’s a weakness in it. Not quite conciliatory, but close. Close enough to press. 

“I will bring him here,” says Nie Huaisang, forcing all of his conviction into each syllable. “I’d marry him into the sect if he wasn’t so in love with Wangji-xiong.”

Da-ge sighs, “You don’t need to--” 

“You’re right! Because there’s another option!”

Da-ge’s eyes widen as he realizes, “Huaisang, no.” 

Nie Huaisang grins, “He just has to agree to it.”

“Huaisang.”

“It’ll be perfect!”

“Huaisang!”

Nie Huaisang stands tall, raising his fan high, and cries out, “We’ll bow before Heaven and Earth and the entire cultivation world as sworn brothers!”

Da-ge stands to match him, “You will not.” 

He’s tall, so much taller than Nie Huaisang, so Nie Huaisang goes two steps up the stairs, saying, “We will. In Lanling. At his nephew’s Full Moon celebration.” 

Da-ge doesn’t chase him. He looks up, now, to his younger brother. A mixture of defeat and something else -- maybe hope? -- in his steely, grey eyes. 

“You think you can arrange that?” he asks, but it’s not a question. It’s a yielding. An acquiescence. Permission. 

Nie Huaisang smiles down at his older brother and nods. “Jin Guangshan will be so pleased to have Wei-xiong close enough to touch.”

“Close enough to trap.”

“Yes, we’ll have to be careful.” He taps his folded fan against his chin, “But if Qinghe Nie offers him protection, I bet Wei-xiong will be willing to give up that stupid seal that has everyone frothing at the mouth like rabid dogs.” 

Da-ge’s eyebrows climb his forehead. “He’d give up his power? Just like that?”

Nie Huaisang steps back down the stairs, putting him on equal footing with his brother, his sect leader, again. Now that he’s won, now that they’re talking strategy, he sits back down on the stone stairs, pleased when Da-ge does the same. He picks up the whetstone that Da-ge had discarded in his earlier rage and hands it to him. 

“Wei-xiong doesn’t want power for power, Da-ge. He wants it for purpose. He needs it to keep people safe and if we take on that burden for him, he won’t need that power anymore.”

Da-ge hums and nods, turning the stone over in his hands, thumbs gliding over the smooth edges of it. 

“If we take in a few dozen farmers --” he continues, but Da-ge cuts in. 

“And the Wen siblings.”

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang rolls his eyes, “and the Wen siblings, who will be very grateful to not have to scrounge out a living on a mountain of death anymore,” he reminds his stubborn brother, “then Wei Wuxian will give up the Seal. He’ll come here. We will protect him and those he has claimed. And he will fix--” Da-ge cuts a glare at him from the side, and Nie Huaisang amends, “adjust our cultivation so that it stops killing our most powerful practitioners.” 

“It is not bad to have a defined upper limit on power,” says the man who is always pushing up against that limit with his own two shoulders. 

But Nie Huaisang doesn’t need to bring that up. “So you’ve said,” he nods. “It is also not bad for our sect leaders to have an expected lifespan longer than forty years.” Really, it doesn’t seem like he’s asking too much here. 

Da-ge grins. “You just don’t want to be a sect leader.” 

“This is true,” says Nie Huaisang, because it very much is. “And you will need all the time I can give you to find a wife who can stand you--” he dodges Da-ge’s hand as it flashes out to catch his arm, giggling when the fingertips connect with his sleeve anyway “--long enough to make you a tiny little heir!” Da-ge lunges again. 

For a moment, they’re just brothers again. Before titles and wars and death molded them into what they are now, they were just two brothers. Two brothers who loved each other and who protected each other. 

Nie Huaisang supposes they haven’t changed too much, in the grand scheme of things. They love each other. And they will protect each other. 

“This will work?” Da-ge asks, and Nie Huaisang swallows past the fear in his throat. 

“Da-ge, it is the only chance we have.” 

Da-ge hums again, passing the whetstone from hand to hand until handing it to Nie Huaisang. “You will pick up a saber?”

Nie Huaisang hesitates, fingers barely grazing the now-warm stone. “That was not part of this deal.” 

“What if it was?”

He can’t tell, he honestly can’t tell if Da-ge would back out over this or not. It’s an amazing bluff if it is one, but if it’s not -- Nie Huaisang can’t afford to give up now. Besides, he’s only ever had one truly major complaint against the Saber Path. 

“If he fixes it-- Don’t give me that look. If he fixes it,” he takes a deep breath and accepts the whetstone from his brother, “I’ll pick up my saber.” 

“Deal.” Da-ge stands, smiling, and Nie Huaisang just can’t help himself. 

He snaps open his fan and says, “But I’ll put it back down as soon as I start sweating.” 

“Sang’er!” Da-ge starts to stomp after him. 

He runs. “It’s so gross, Da-ge!”

[sinfulskywalker]

Been reading all your delicious headcanons about dark Dinluke and I'm just. Imagining Luke, who lost all hope for himself but not for the Child he just birthed, actually managing to smuggle them away from Mandalore for good after weeks of careful planning.

What little remained of his heart shattered that day.

Din, upon realising what he's just done, might be ready to break something else.

Oh he would break the galaxy apart to get his Riddur and children back, anon.

TW: possessiveness, haunted Din, Dark fic.

Din was furious. How could this have happened? Luke had slipped through his fingers like smoke; it stung more knowing he took Grogu and Shmi with him. His Consort had slipped away I to the night and no one knew where he was.

"Find them!" Was all Din growled. What had he done to deserve this? He gave his beloved his own planet for Kriff's sake! Luke was admired, adored and had a whole army that would be willing to die for him. Why would his beloved throw of that away, after all Din did for him!

Din tries to reason with himself, to use his own critical thinking to assess the situation when the saber hums into his brain: He's just confused, Manda'lor. He needs to be brought back to where he belongs and taught a lesson. But was that even a possibility? Din was sure Luke knew better than to leave him. After he had warned his Jedi that the Galaxy was unforgiving and cold. Din knew first hand and he wanted to prevent any harm to his clan.

No doubt Grogu would be worried and upset his Buir wasn't with them and Shmi is only a baby, no doubt cold and Luke left without his credits card, finding food would be hard if he ran far and Din knew Luke couldn't nurse her forever.

Where did he run? Tatooine was being searched. Luke often spoke of his old home world and how much he wanted to leave when he was young and seeking adventure, but it was still an option on the table for Luke could have ran there to hide at a friend's house.

Or another lover's. The saber hisses. Din refused to believe Luke would dishonor him like that. Luke was no slut.

"Hold your tongue, sword." Din snarled.

Din felt like a fool for not seeing the signs earlier. Yes, Luke had given up asking and begging to leave, but that didn't mean he lost his far away gaze whenever he peeked out a window or glanced at the stars. Din called himself a bumbling idiot for believing Luke wouldn't have tried at the first opportunity alone when Din mentioned he would be gone for only a week.

Luke had always kept Shmi and Grogu close in a sling for his hands to be accessible. Luke knew where the hangars we're and in the War flew everything from X-Wings to Naboo fighter jets. Luke used his resources and spring at the first opportunity.

"You'll be a good boy and wait for me, right, Cyar'ika?"

Luke had said nothing and Din had let it go, favoring a kiss on the cheek as an acceptable answer.

A kiss goodbye.

Din narrowed his eyes, though it was unseen for his helmet hid his face as he started up his own fighter jet. The saber chuckled, "Oh, you have delicious thoughts of punishment headed towards our love's way, haven't you?"

Dank Ferrik, Din didn't want to hurt Luke.

But the second he found his Consort, Luke will find it's possible to not be able to sit for a month straight.

[magical-trash-peasant]

finally. The probably ooc Saberlot headcanons that literally no one asked for 😈

(disclaimer: these are just my thoughts, not canon obv. will not necessarily be in order. I also don't know how to put things under the cut. apologies.)

(couldn't find the artist who drew the cover pic, so if you know who they are pls lmk 🤞)

Platonic Yandere! Saber Lancelot

tw: yandere, stalking, unhealthy platonic relationship, obsessive behavior, violence, kidnapping, slight manipulation

✯-------------------✯-------------------✯

- First of all, we need to identify what Yandere type Lancelot is.

- Based on the way Lancelot acts in-game, he is very respectful and thoughtful when it comes to his Master and their boundaries, and according to his servant profile, "never tries to get heavily involved". But this isn't regular Lancelot we're talking about.

- During a normal Holy Grail War, the circumstances are nothing less than perilous.

- Since Lancelot is already loyal to whatever Master happens to summon him during the HGW(and since I don't think Lancelot would become obsessed with a Master who's a complete dickhead), your kind and generous nature only serve to make him more protective than he already is.

- In his mind, he had led Guinevere, King Arthur, and Camelot to ruin. His only wish for the Grail is for the King to judge a traitor like him. Therefore, Lancelot sees you as his shot at redemption outside of the Grail. He refuses to fail you.

- Even though his intentions start off innocent enough, Lancelot knows his protectiveness goes beyond what would be considered "normal", even taking the Master-Servant relationship and the HGW into consideration. At first, he tries to restrain himself to keep his distance and not cross your boundaries, but his paranoia gets the better of him. He sees it as necessary.

- For a female master, he might be a bit more overprotective because of the whole "damsel in distress" thing. He's supposed to be a pillar of chivalry, after all.

- Not unlike his regular counterpart, Lancelot likes making himself useful and is eager to dispel his Master's worries. So for his yandere counterpart, his priorities are keeping you safe *and* keeping you happy. Your happiness is his.

- So I headcanon Lancelot as a Lucid Obsessive/Protective type.

Let's elaborate on his behavior during the HGW.

- If you have to go out in public, anywhere, at any time, Lancelot insists on going with you. Wanna go for a walk? Great! He'll join you. Need to go shopping? Cool, he'll help you shop, bring your things to your car, and because of his Riding Skill, can even drive you to and fro if you want him to. Hanging with friends? They wouldn't mind an extra person, right?

"Going out? Ah, I see. Allow me to accompany you. Do you need any help getting ready, My Lady/Lord/Master?"

- If Lancelot and another Servant are engaged in battle, he insists you stay hidden while he handles the Servant and their Master. He can't risk the enemy Servant or Master targeting you, after all. He'd only involve you if he needed you to use a command spell. Your safety comes before anything else.

- Speaking of friends, Lancelot prefers to go with you to meet your friends. Who knows what kind of danger they could pose to his Master? However, if you aren't fond of Lancelot tagging along with your friends and tell him to stop, or god forbid you *sneak out* in the middle of the night, Lancelot won't be far from you. He's no idiot. He knows where you're going. Instead of materializing, scaring the shit out of you and your friends and taking you back home, he opts for watching you in his spirit form. That way, he can be close to you without you getting suspicious.

- That said, if he thinks one of your friends is a serious threat, or god forbid does something to *actually harm you*(if they can even touch you before he does something, that is), he's instantly materializing and taking you to safety. Depending on the severity of the injury, he may decide to go back and teach them a lesson once your health is insured. Whether that's just intimidating them until they piss themselves or physically harming them is up to him.

- If you offhandedly mention something you like, or Lancelot sees something small he thinks would make you happy, expect to have it within the week. If you have any chores you need to do, like unloading the groceries and washing dishes, he'll happily offer to do it for you.

- If you're out in public, he'll offer you his arm(or his hand, if you ask him to), will hold the door for you, shield you in a crowd, and will give you his jacket/cape if you get cold.

- I think Lancelot would enjoy domestic days with you. Making breakfast, watching TV, and just having fun together are the times where Lancelot is happiest. After all, there's usually very little actual downtime during a Holy Grail War, so he cherishes the moments he gets to spend with you alone.

- Lancelot isn't an especially affectionate man, but he doesn't mind putting more effort in that department if it makes you happy. Like a hug here and there, a polite kiss to your knuckles, letting you lean on his shoulder whilst relaxing, or keeping a grip on your hand in public.

- The only kind of affection Lancelot would have to refuse is any kind of sexual contact/intimate romantic contact(kisses on the lips, neck, etc.). Not only does he not see you in a romantic light, but he has too much respect to do anything like that. He draws a hard line between platonic and romantic affection that he refuses to cross.

- Since Lancelot is an overprotective type, I can see him being wary of everyone you cross paths with, strangers or not.

- But despite this, Lancelot isn't the type of person to go around slaughtering people he doesn't particularly like/trust, yandere or not. He's still a knight, after all. Instead, I think he'd try to lessen the time you spend around said person, whether it's steering you away from them in public, subtly threatening them when you aren't around, or second-guessing the trust you've placed in them. He's only got your best interests at heart, right?

- If you happen to catch onto his behavior, or even snap at him for it, he'll back down a bit. But like I mentioned before, he'll probably just stalk you in his spirit form, or follow you anyway, and insist it's "for your protection".

"...I see. I'm deeply sorry, Master. I will do my utmost to restore your faith in me." *proceeds to follow you anyway*

- If you have a date, expect Lancelot to grill them with questions/menace the shit out of them when you aren't there and stalk you both from nearby the entire date. His reaction is derived from both his yandere side and his experiences with his past encounters, like Guinevere and Elaine of Corbenic. Not to say he'd actively try to sabotage your date for no reason though, he stills wants you to be happy.

- I think it would take extremely dire circumstances for Lancelot to even consider kidnapping you.

- He hates crossing your boundaries, being disrespectful, and making you unhappy. And he knows that kidnapping you or keeping you on lockdown would be doing practically all of those things.

- So for a kidnapping to take place, I think you'd have to be practically fatally wounded by an enemy Servant/Master or trying to sever your contract with him prematurely(either because you caught on to his behavior or otherwise).

- Even then, him "kidnapping" you is more like him just keeping you in your house/home base for extended periods of time. He treads lightly, though. He knows if he makes you too upset/suspicious that you could easily use a command spell to compel him to leave you be for extended periods of time. Which is the last thing he wants.

- Due to this fact, I think the worst "punishment" you'd ever receive is a harsh reprimand, and Lancelot cutting into the time you spend alone even more.

- So overall, I don't think Lancelot would be the worst yandere to have. Maybe not the best, but certainly not the worst. Just a devoted knight who only strives to maintain your safety and happiness.

(this is literally my first fanfic/headcanon I've ever written, so feel free to leave feedback! thanks for reading! <3)

[thewriterowl]

DinLuke Headcannons

Luke fell for Din at first sight. Din did not. 

Luke told Din about two weeks later. Din was a mess but with how easy-going Luke is he was able to get comfortable, though he felt guilty for rejecting his feelings, and be around Luke as a good friend.

Din realizes he’s in love about seven months to a year later.

When Din realized he was in love it was a sucker-punch and needed to be away for a while to come to terms with it. He isn’t able to tell Luke for another few weeks though.

While Luke’s confession was sweet, heartfelt, and honest it was also just very simple and during a quiet conversation. Din either confesses when in the middle of a battle, Luke is hurt, or someone else starts to show interest in the Jedi. Basically, he responds to panic to confess his love.

Luke prefers to keep his hair longer but it can be a bit of a frustration to take care of since it is wavy and curls at the end. He gets frustrated with it often when he has to train or battle (not quite long enough for a bun--he needs to learn from Leia how to braid it). He is close to chopping it off again, like when they first met, but Din really loves to push it behind Luke’s ears for him and likes to play with it since it is all silky. So Luke keeps it a bit longer.

Luke LOVES Din’s hair. He plays with it all the time. but he really loves Din’s facial hair. He strokes at his jaw a lot which makes Din practically purr.

They start sleeping together almost immediately but they do not have sex for a while. Neither have had the highest sex drive (potential one or both are virgins) so they are just very happy to have someone to sleep with and hold.

They probably get married pretty quickly too. Both seem very aware each other is IT and they would have no interest in anyone else. Love each other? Ok then, let’s get hitched and we’re burning the receipt (aka marriage certificate) so you can’t return me. You’re stuck here forever.

Tatooine did not have any sort of ceremonies except maybe signing of papers, since slavery was so prevalent and life could be seen as commodity marriage certificates could help get someone back if they were captured, but Din is very into the idea of something (no Luke, he’s not romantic, shut up). At this time, Luke has probably given up on the fake skin and keeps his mechanical hand under the glove...so Din creates a Mudhorn signet on a brand new Beskar hand and that’s sort of how he proposes (tho they probably already said the vows). Luke loves it. He also offers to get a tattoo of the Mudhorn which makes Din swoon. And when he gets it that may be the breaking point in tackling Luke to bed.

Din, who already had tattoos, offers to get the Jedi symbol. Luke says he doesn’t have to. Din gets it. (this time Luke tackles him to bed)

Din does his best to refuse to be involved in Mandalorian drama and hides in domestic life, despite that he keeps getting dragged into it. People keep trying to come get the saber from him...he keeps winning. Luke is both concerned and amused.

The Darksaber is very in love with Luke too. It will leave Din alone about being Mand’alor as long as they stick with Luke. It can handle a domestic life as long as it has a hot husband.

Grogu becomes very toddler-possessive over Luke (sometimes just to be a brat to his Buir). Din is amused. And jealous.

Despite his poor sense of taste, Luke is great with making savory things. He cooks as much as he can for his family. He makes the best meat stew with the perfect amount of spice that reminds Din of his parents.

Despite liking to claim he is salty and bitter, Din can actually make (or select from the shops) really good desserts that he uses to his advantage to his sweet-tooth husband’s dismay (oh you want this cake???? Good husbands who go to therapy get cake.)

Luke twitches a bit, nerve damage and PTSD, and is curled up to his side when he sleeps. Din just lands in one position and is a rock the entire night. He has fallen asleep face first into the pillows before. Luke has no idea how he didn’t die.

Neither will deny or admit if the other snores (they claim it is to avoid embarrassment...everyone is pretty sure it’s because both are idiots with weird sleeping patterns and have no idea and don’t want to admit they don’t know something about the other)

Grogu knows. 

Luke gardens. It makes him feel close to his family. He is very good at it! He focuses more on herbs and such...but he has some pretty flowers.

Din touched a squash plant once and it basically died on the spot.

Without the need to bounty hunt constantly, Din realized he does not have many hobbies. for a few months his hobby was hobby searching. he just can’t function on his family and training alone. Since he is so not interested in being the king, the Armorer offers to teach him more on how to blacksmith. Din picks it up very, very well and makes Luke and Grogu all sorts of trinkets as he practices.

he is also strangely good at sketching. he uses it to plan out designs but he does have a book of Grogu and Luke he has hidden away.

Luke and Grogu know about it.

[nevertheless-moving]

thanks again to @dykerory and @willowcrowned for this genius au. this is an incomplete collection of very specific set of headcanons/daydreams i had about a tangential version of your au that made me emotional in the middle of the woods. whenever you feel the time is right, i’m very eager to hear your og version on the ‘but obi-wan, tho!’, because i admittedly pushed this one’s resolution really far chronologically because i wanted batman to be involved.

continuation from here

note: my understanding of dcu is as sporadically informed as my understanding of the gffa. 

newly graduated clark kent gets his first journalism job and starts settling more and more into the superman thing. the rest of the justice league has been around but his entrance onto the scene is the one that really inspires the various heroes to actually start coordinating to deal with the weirdness magnet that is dcu Earth. Clark is in his early 20s. Anakin is in his late 30s.

He’s been living on Earth, without the force, for nearly 2/3rds of his life. He has a close knit circle of friends who were kind to him even when they thought he was just a weird and crazy emo cult victim (the gradual increase of public encounters with aliens and superpowers sparks some awkward apologies, Anakin at 38 just waves his friends off, smiling and changing the subject, neither confirming nor denying his high school ramblings of spaceships and magic. it doesn’t really change anything).

He lives an hour’s drive from smallville, and runs a successful auto shop. people travel from pretty far to check out some of his more wild and specialized motorcycle abominations. makes enough money selling them to rich idiots to fund his free auto-class and auto-repair programs for impoverished communities.

It took a while but he eventually came around to the idea of helping people without physical force (ironically, this is happening around the same time Clark is coming to the realization that he can help people with physical force). Generally respected as a pillar of the community. When people start to realize how profoundly weird he is as a person in a number of inexplicable ways, someone will generally pull them aside and quietly whisper that he was in a cult at a child, no one really knows much about it except that it’s what inspired his anti-modern-slavery work, which is a little telling. Not married. Was in a long-term relationship for like 9 years. It didn’t end well but no-one knows the details.

Has several cats. 

He’s- wistful but settled. He’s been through a lot of therapy. He meditates every morning and night, clearing his mind and examining his emotions in the way Obi-Wan taught him. He thinks Obi-Wan would be proud of him. He know his Mom would be.

Once he gets used to the idea, he never really stops loving the concept of learning just because. Duel bachelors degree in in african american history and american literature, masters in engineering, masters in astrophysics a phd in theoretical physics, another phd in medieval folklore. He’s worked a lot of jobs. 

He was already pretty well versed in astronavigation back at the temple. Over the course of his time on earth, he gets more educated in earth astronomy and physics. With is increased knowledge, his theory for ‘how did i get here’ shifts from slight hyperdrive miscalculation, to big hyperdrive miscalculation, to some sort of hyperlane incident. he realizes that none of the stars he knows are familiar in any NASA database. He must be beyond wildspace, which helps him let go of the last bit of hurt he felt that Obi-Wan never found him.

Then he really learns physics- and- light doesn’t exactly work like that right? He thought it was just primitive Earth understanding but... he gets a phd more or less accidentally, trying and failing to disprove that the speed of life is constant constant.

Get’s another even more accidentally, explaining how alternate universes might form if we assume slightly different universal constants. He publishes his thesis anonymously around the same time metas are becoming a household term, and at least one science journalist speculates on it and how alternate universes might explain the increasing prevalence of wildly different superpowers. He doesn’t claim credit for the honorary diploma awarded to the unknown theorist- he doesn’t want to risk drawing any attention to him and by extension Clark, who’s alien differences are far more of the ‘military experiment interesting’ variety then his.

He stops tinkering with Clark’s ship. He finally gets how it works. Now that he realizes how FTL travel has to work in this universe, tinkering with the mechanical generation and harnessing of the massive quantities of energy necessary to do is startlingly familiar. But it doesn’t matter. No matter how far and fast he travels, he’s never going to be able to get back to the life he used to know. 

Perhaps this is what being the chosen one actually means- he’s meant to live a life without the force, so that when he returns to it in death he’ll be able to somehow...educate? the force? maybe?

Ok, he’s not great at the metaphysical spiritual side of things, but he does accept that going back is out of his control, and he’s doing good here, even if it’s not galaxy altering.

Despite all the therapy, he never doubts that his early life was real. He has his saber and deep, deep down he can feel a spark in the kyber. He can’t do anything with it, but it’s there. There’s also pieces of the utter wreck that was his ship in the cellar, next to the sleek unblemished pod that Clark arrived in. Shortly before Clark becomes Superman, he asks for his help in melting down his old ship to make unearthly alloys. 

He’s not surprised when Clark tells him he met a ‘real’ ‘magic’ user- it stands to reason that considering how relatively easy it is to convert energy from one form to another in this universe (Clark can fly), at least one kind would bend to sentient willpower in a similar way as the force does.

It’s still a little nervewracking showing his lightsaber to someone new for the first time in a decade. Zantana scrutinizes, bewildered. 

“There is some sort of power locked within, but it’s unfamiliar to me,” she admits finally. “I could probably brute force it and force the energy to release itself, but it would likely destroy the container.” Anakin politely refuses. 

Later, after the justice league’s formation, Clark mentions to J’onn that he has a friend who might be able to work on his ship. J’onn is extremely doubtful when he’s brought to a bizarre autoshop in the midwest that looks half-like a roadside attraction. Anakin sighs and digs his hands into the guts of the craft, muttering incomprehensibly and yelling at clark to melt down some pieces from the special scrap pile. A few days later he explains the patches he’s done to an impressed J’onn. When he asks how a human came to learn such things, he’s absently informed that,

“I used to work in a junkshop in Tatooine. All sorts of ship parts came through.”

“I’m unfamiliar with this world.”

“Tell you what, if you ever meet anyone who’s heard it of it, send them my way, and I’ll make your next repair free.”

“Oh! I’m afraid I don’t have any earth money...”

“Ugh, of course you don’t. it’s cool, capitalism sucks anyway and everyone’s entitled to free transportation, regardless of the area they happen to live. I do ask that if you can’t pay for the repairs that you spend an equivalent number of hours either attending one of my free auto classes, or volunteer at a community-led charities of your choice, here I’ll get you a pamphlet-”

So the Martian Manhunter becomes a weekly volunteer at a Midwestern Food Waste Reclamation Facility. J’onn J’onzz ends up becoming Anakin Skywalker’s friend well before he becomes comes truly comfortable around Kal-El. For a telepath, 39 year old Anakin’s Jedi orderly mind is a soothing relief.

(again, Anakin has spent far more time meditating on Earth then he ever did at the temple. Before all this, spent five years dutifully memorizing the Jedi way even as he struggled to live up it’s basic practices. For the first few years on earth, religiously practicing every meditation technique Obi-Wan ever taught him, thinking obsessively about the philosophies he never had time to really process, is just a desperate attempt to reconnect with the force, prove himself worthy of it. But even after he gives up on ever touching the force again, he keeps up the practice, he can’t release his emotions exactly, but he does find peace. The tendency to stop mid-rant to earnestly pronounce made up zen bullshit and then sit quietly for an hour before picking up on his tirade again as though there was no interruption is one of the things many things people find profoundly weird about him)

Kal-El doesn’t stop asking new aliens and dimensional travelers if they’ve ever heard of Coruscant, or Hutts, or the Jedi Order. Anakin might have given up, but Superman remembers his older brother scrubbing away his own tears to focus on helping Clark calm down enough to touch the floor again. The more the Kryptonian’s powers developed in alarming ways, the more Anakin set aside talk of missing his home galaxy. Anakin might have claimed it wasn’t like that, but Clark was determined to take every chance his increasingly weird life threw at him, no matter how vanishingly small.

In the middle of his first battle with Braniac, Clark starts insulting his incomplete database. The world collector pauses, demanding a more precise explanation. Clark complies, giving his best technical description of Coruscant’s cityscape, Tatooine’s binary star system, and so on. Braniac is so distracted that Superman recovers completely from his kryptonite poisoning and easily saves the day.

Neither the lantern corp or the denizens of the neutral zone have the answers. Superman doesn’t mention it it Anakin, but he never stops looking and listening.

“How did you even meet that guy?” Flash asks curiously after stopping to say hello on one of their after work laps of the country. 

“Aliens among us support group,” Kal-El responds deadpan. 

“Oh. Wait, what? He’s an alien? I thought he was from the future or something! You’re messing with me. No way that’s a thing. How many people are in the support group? This is a joke, right?”

“Sorry, most of them aren’t out and I don’t want to violate their privacy- a lot of them have high profile jobs. How do you think I met J’onn?”

“SUPES I’M FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW YOU’VE GOTTA STOP”

Anakin is just sort of vaguely known by a solid chunk of the super community as ‘that one midwestern zen space mechanic’ and no one really questions it because everyone’s life has just gotten so goddamn weird. A few of them know he used to be a space wizard of some kind. Space wizards now being a regular hazard of life on earth, no one has reason to doubt this, and it’s as good an explanation as any for Anakin’s general vibe.

well. almost no one doubts this. Batman does not simply accept Anakin’s general bullshittery without carefully investigating and drawing his own conclusions. He does not share these with anyone.

But one day Clark- this is well after Superman became Kal-El to him, and not long after Kal-El tells him to call him Clark- comes up to him and asks for his help finding about an alternate universe. Knowing and dreading where this is going, Batman stalls,

“Shouldn’t you be asking one of the league members who regularly travels between universes?”

“I have, over the years,” Clark admits, awkwardly scuffing a boot on the floor of the cave. “But no one’s familiar with the exact one I’m looking for, and I thought since you’re a detective, and also one of the smartest people I know, you might be able to help me...”

“You’re an investigator yourself, and you can survive the vacuum of space,” Bruce shoots back flatly. “I’ve told you before Gotham is my priority, and this has ‘personal project’ all over it.”

“Come on, B, please,” Superman pleads, trailing Batman around the cave like an overgrown puppy. “In a few months it will have been 30 years! He’s my brother! Just let me see the research you’ve already done!”

“Who says I’ve already done research on your brother?”

Clark shoots him a look. And Bruce concedes the point with a grunt.

“I’ll need need to talk with him first,” Bruce finally concedes. “Bring him by the cave. Take the-”

“Take the tunnel entrance, I know, I know,” Clark agrees with a grin. “This doesn’t mean he’s authorized to know your secret identity. Thanks Bruce, this means a lot. I’ll ask him tomorrow about his schedule.”

Superman flies off and Batman scrubs his face with a gloved hand. After a moment he pulls up Anakin’s file on the main monitor. Bruce honestly respects and likes the man, as much as he respects and likes anyone who’s not family. He admires his sense his style, appreciates his upgrades to the batmobile, and is impressed by both this civil rights work and his additions to the scientific community.

That doesn’t mean he’s not convinced that Anakin’s brother is a bit insane. Again, he’s not judging! He dresses like a bat to scare random henchmen and beat up actual demigods! He wishes his rogues gallery was as capable of directing their ptsd-inspired delusions and staggering intellects towards such productive pursuits!

Bruce was already in quiet awe of the Kent’s ability to raise an outrageously superpowered being without blowing up a chunk of the country; their success in derailing a supervillian origin story just puts him over the edge. He stares at the three most likely profiles he’s pulled together. Christen Jones, from a negligent family, death certificate filled out suspicously sloppily at age 3. Earl Lucas, went missing at age 9, both parents dead in a violent assault. And Jake Hayden, who at age 5 disappeared along with the rest of his family in a seismic accident later linked to Luthercorp.

Anyone of them could have suffered on the streets for years and coped by establishing an elaborate fantasy world, aided by self medication, only to eventually be picked up by the Kent’s and start healing. Certainly Anakin had the intellect to create worlds in his mind. All his rogues were smart enough to create their own little realities in their heads- it doesn’t mean they were actually reachable. 

Unfortunately Anakin had a Kryptonian younger brother who was determined to actually find the space wizard knight homeworld, even as the 'Jedi’ in question had slowly moved away his reliance on the delusion as an adult. Batman really didn’t see any way bringing up his conclusions to Anakin or Clark could possibly be helpful, and so many alien allies had a ‘If you find about the Jedi please contact Kal-El of Krypton on Earth’ pamphlet that it would be excruciatingly awkward to try and discretely correct anyone.

Bruce was not looking forward to this conversation.

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (1) || atz

The sounds of the waves crashing against shore, the white sea foam like clouds of the sky.

Salt touches your tongue as sea spray catches the light of the sun, casting a beautiful rainbow across your cheeks.

Seagulls circle in the clear blue expanse above, their cries ringing out for miles.

Rain lashes against your arms and droplets clings to your eyelashes. They resemble tears.

Lightning splits the darkness of the clouds and thunder akin to cannon shot rolls overhead, but there is no fear.

You smile wide, eyes closed, but then something in your chest weighs you down.

Suddenly, you’re yanked into the depths, water filling your nose and lungs and all at once, you cannot breathe. The weight in your chest drags you down, down, down, and no matter how hard you flail and thrash about, no matter how desperately you reach for the surface…

There is nothing but darkness.

Drip, drip, drip.

Your eyes flutter open softly, like a new butterfly’s wings. You’re lying on something wet and rough beneath your body, and to your horror, when you instinctively try to rub your eyes, your hands are bound together by a coarse, thick rope.

Right in front of you is a puddle of water and drops of water keeps falling into it, forming tiny ripples. You try to sit up as your eyes instinctively follow its path, up the grime ridden stone walls to the crack in the ceiling were rainwater seeps through. A spider lazily weaves its web in a corner and for a moment, you’re spellbound by it.

Crack!

You flail backwards at the deafening sound of a thunderclap, but your hands are tied together and you’re sent crashing to the ground painfully. Luckily, the ground is wet so the fall isn’t as painful as it could have been, but you still feel a tenderness in your hip where bare skin got dragged across uneven stone. You suck in a breath.

“Come on, it’s not that bad. Sit up again.”

Exhaling carefully, you roll onto your back, ignoring the pain of the small rocks digging into your side, and finally heave yourself up with a haphazard effort of numb limbs. Your bound ankles come into view, along with dirty, calloused bare feet. They’re tied with a thick red cord that there’s no chance you can cut through or untie, and when your mind finally screams at you the obvious, your heart stops.

“You’re in a prison.”

Your head snaps to the right, metal grills lining the tiny window in the room. To your left, the only exit secured with heavy metal bars, kept locked by three iron chains, each with a metal padlock at the end. Whoever locked you up here wanted to make sure you had no chance of escape. Before you can think any further, the sound of chattering and clanking metal wrenches you back to the present.

“-some woman down here.” The sound of heeled boots echoes down a flight of steps. There’s a soft squeak of leather and the man curses. “Damned stairs, what was that bastard Arthur thinking, holding a public execution today? Justice calls, my ass. He probably just wants to get rid some whore that heard his mouth running when he was drunk-”

“Quiet, Mannon!” Another voice, higher and hushed this time. “You never know if someone could overhear you! The governor will have you hanged!”

“Ha!” A derisive snort. To your mounting horror, their footsteps seem to be drawing nearer to your cell. “As if his men are going to lug themselves here to check on a mere prisoner. Lazing about in their offices all day, doing nothing but paperwork, afraid to get their hands dirty- Oh, she’s awake.”

Your face jerks upwards, but seconds later you flinch away from the light of the torch in the men’s hands. Slightly disoriented, you try to regain your bearings. That’s when the shorter and slightly rounded man pulls out a set of key from the pocket of his crimson uniform, moving towards your door. Your hope bubbles in your chest like a warm spring.

You watch, fascinated, as the chains slither away from the bars, landing in heaps on the floor. The man that resembles a bamboo stick draped in an ill fitting uniform steps forward and with a quick swipe of a pocket knife the ropes fall from your ankles. Warm blood rushes to your feet as if it’s the first time and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” You say gratefully, but the men simply stare at you, one unsympathetic and stone cold, the other won’t quite meet your eye. The portly one shakes his head, hand reaching down for the cord that binds your hands behind your back and tugs you to your feet carelessly.

“Don’t thank us for dragging you to the gallows, girlie.” The man snaps, unceremoniously shoving you forward. Before you fall, the other man catches you by the shoulders, steadying you. He’s warm.

“Mannon, stop doing this, alright?” His voice echoes somewhere far, far away, as if you’re underwater. You don’t register what he said.

Gallows?

“Yes, gallows, the place where people get hung, idiot.” A voice in your inner subconscious rings out, surprisingly clear even through the white noise that had filled your mind from panic. The insult manages to slap you back to your senses.

“Idiot?” You repeat to yourself under your breath, almost offended as the two guards pull you out of the cell and march you up the stairs with your hands tied behind your back. This laughingly pales in comparison to the actual trouble you are in.

Then it hits you full force.

You are walking to the gallows. Walking to your own death.

There’s a moment of serene peace for a moment, then you’re panicking, trying your best to recall what exactly has led you to this. What had you done to be deserving of the death penalty? You wrack your mind desperately for some some sort of answer, some sort of reason, but nothing comes forth except a blank, white canvas where your memories should be.

Where are your memories?

Fear floods through you like a tidal wave, rising and sweeping throughout every corner in your mind. It’s so real it’s palpable, clawing at your throat and stealing the breath from your lungs. There is nothing in your memories, no smiling parents, no first birthdays, no new pretty dresses, no favourite foods, nothing but white noise and the sound of waves crashing against shore.

How old are you? What did you eat yesterday? Why are you here?

Who are you?

You can’t even begin to fathom the answer to that one question.

“Hey, move it.” The rounder guard behind you shoves the small of your back forward, your bare feet dragging along the cobblestones of the street. The sky is dark and grey, as if weeping for all that you cannot remember and you see the townspeople peering at you and whispering to each other from tiny cracks in the doors and windows, no doubt wondering who it is unlucky enough to suffer the wrath of the official of the town. But there is not an ounce of recognition, only sympathy. Nobody cries for you, nobody tries to stop you as you take one step after another to the gallows. Nobody knows you.

You are alone.

Suddenly everything becomes so real to you. The feeling of cool rainwater as it trickles down your cheeks, the stone against your bare feet. The crisp cold air of a storm. The colour of the rain clouds. In another few minutes, you will be completely devoid of all sensation.

“I refuse.”

Like any thunderclap, the sound is deafening, it makes your eardrums ring and if your hands weren’t tied you’d clap them over your ears. But most thunderclaps don’t split buildings or cause massive screaming and mayhem.

“The official’s building!” The skinnier guard cries out in horror at the sight of the roof on one of the larger buildings on a hill collapse in on itself. There’s another ear splitting boom, and in the next second, your eyes manage to catch a glimpse of a round shape flying through the air before in plunges into the already collapsing building.

“Pirates!” You hear someone scream, his voice cracking with desperation and fright. “Pirates at the harbor-” His voice is abruptly cut off just as the clanging of a bell fills the air.

“Hurry, Philip! We need to get there!” The guard, Mannon, yanks on his partner’s arm and without a second glance back at you, they sprint down an alleyway, pulling sabers from hip sheathes.

You blink.

You’re free, just like that.

Your eyes dart around for something to free your hands with, but there’s nothing and you can hear the sounds of screaming getting ever closer. Townspeople are fleeing into buildings, doors being slammed shut, candles being extinguished, bolts drawn. From where the official’s building, you hear the click of several heeled boots pacing down the street in double time.

Between them and the pirates, you’d pick the pirates.

So with your hands bound behind your back, you dash down the same path your two captors took.

The sound of cannon fire fills your ears and there’s smoke everywhere. Your eyes sting, but you force yourself to keep moving, one foot in front of the other, one step at the time. There’s another earth shaking boom and suddenly the ground next to you explodes. You bite back the scream in your throat and continue running, you can’t afford to fall now. There are people all around you, dressed in the distinctive red coat of the law authorities here or in a motley array of tunics and breaches, both hold weapons, and both are dying.

As you move forward without looking back, there’s the sound of clashing metal, musket fire, screams of the wounded or dying. A man suddenly falls in front of you, blood pooling like a blossoming rose across the white of his undershirt, matching the vibrant red of his uniform. You leap over the corpse and turn back, staring open mouthed at his unclosing eyes, still wide in his shock, the slack muscles in his cheeks and jaw unmoving.

He’s dead.

You look up, almost instinctively. There’s a young man standing there, a long spear in hand. He’s wearing a sandy brown shirt over a white linen tunic and long, white pants that only accentuate his height tucked into knee high leather boots. His eyes, a soft brown beneath matching curls, meet yours for a split second.

Then you run.

You sprint as fast as you possibly can, feet flying over fallen swords and broken planks. You cannot stop. Through the acrid scent of smoke and gunpowder, you can finally smell it.

The sea.

In the harbor three ships are docked. One, with the emblem of a crimson rose embroidered onto its flag, has had its mainsail torn to shreds and the deck peppered with holes. Majority of its crew lie dead or unmoving, and even as you watch one of the last gun crews are blasted into the sea by a round cannonball, which shatters upon impact with the deck to form tiny, flying pieces of shrapnel that take out the gun crew beside it. The other ship, presumably a merchant vessel, is looted bare as its crew watches helplessly. Pirates heave chests of salted fish and silk cloth onto the third vessel.

The third ship is a large, ocean going vessel. Above its three sails on the mainmast flies its flag. A plain black design with the word ATEEZ in bright, bold orange, you immediately know this is the pirates’ ship. The harbor is chaos, clamoring of two sides to get the upper hand, but you can’t stop now. Taking a deep breath, you dash forward.

A blade narrowly misses your neck as you continue running with all your might, sliding under the business end of a swinging club. You barely feel the sting of your skin tearing as a stray musket ball nicks your upper arm, adrenaline pumping through your veins like a drug. You feel something warm and wet soak into the fabric of your sleeve, but like hell you’ll let that stop you now. By sheer dumb luck, you finally reach the gangplank of the pirate ship and dash up it, the wood creaking beneath your feet. They might be bleeding after that mad dash through town, but you’re here.

Now what?

Fighting is still going on all around. Pirates work in small groups to fight off boarding officers as they try to swarm the pirates. You hear a voice shout out “Fire in the hole!” over the din, and the five subsequent explosions send the boat rocking from side to side.

You’re still not safe.

Glancing around desperately, your eyes fall onto a small hatch in the main deck. Dodging the end of an ax on the path of its back swing, you leap for the trapdoor. Thank heavens you’re barefoot, because only with your toes you manage to nudge the bolt open and pull the hatch open. It’s stairs, leading down into the gloom of the storage hold, and from what you can hear, relatively quiet.

You’ll take your chances.

With a painful grunt, you take the stairs two at the time and your legs give out at the last moment. You crash to the floorboards just as the hatch closes over your head, throwing you into darkness except the faint shafts of light coming in from the cracks in the upper deck. Your ankle throbs with pain, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You frantically drag yourself behind a few barrels in the corner, out of sight of anyone coming down the steps and huddle down, praying for the ship to sail as fast as possible.

As if the gods were listening, you hear someone above deck shouting commands. “Weigh the anchor! Unfurl the sails! Wooyoung, fire the retreat flare!”

The voice is deep as the ocean and has an unmistakable air of command. You hear the pirates scrambling to carry out the orders, footsteps thudding across the deck and from the screams and splashes next to you, they are tossing the town officers overboard too. Not a second later another massive boom rocks the ship side to side, you knock your head on the barrels and a bundle of sackcloth falls onto you.

“Oww…” You mutter under your breath feeling something warm trickling down your temple, but then suddenly you hear the same, deep voice issuing commands again.

“Raise the gangplank, make way!”

There’s a sudden jerk of movement as the wind fills the sails. You gasp as you are almost thrown forward, barely regaining your balance at the last moment as the ship begins moving away from the harbor. The furious cries and jeers of the town officers fade away, replaced the sound of the sails beating in the wind and the lapping of waves against the side of the ship.

Home, your mind tells you.

As if all the fight has left you in a single moment, you slump back against the wall, the energy thrumming in your veins evaporating like steam, leaving only a sore ache in your limbs. You should really tend to the cut on your head or find some way to free your hands, but the overwhelming exhaustion crashes over you. The sackcloth is really warm, and you need to be properly rested before you can think of a plan.

“Maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a few seconds.” You tell yourself as your eyelids slide shut and your breathing slows. You sink into a deep sleep.

It feels like you’ve barely closed your eyes when a voice shakes you out of your slumber.

[xecutivecucumber]

Rexsoka Week 2021 Day 7: FUBAR

I hope everyone enjoyed my Rexsoka week contributions. I've had a lot of fun with them. Thanks for all the support!

This one is a little less focused on their relationship and more on the...effed up part of things.

TW: Non Graphic Torture

Day 7: FUBAR

Rex had hung for hours. They'd stripped him of his armor and blacks. His arms were wrenched upward and over a horizontal bar of metal. His legs were forced in an uncomfortable position, as if he was doing a squat midair. Most of his weight was on his bent knees. The device he was entangled with seemed to be a relic of the Separatists.

Rex had no hope of getting out of here alive. It would be foolish to go so deep into Imperial territory for one soldier, even as high ranking as he was. And Rex prided himself with the knowledge that he would never give any sensitive information away.

They'd started the normal Imperial interrogation process with him, using an IT-0 droid to try and get him to talk. Rex was better than that. The clones had been trained to resist the mundane mind probe that the droids used.

But then they had stopped. Some higher up wanted to interrogate Rex themselves, and Rex was to be untouched until they got there.

So Rex hung. The pain of his shoulders and knees was probably more effective than what any of the average Imperial idiots could inflict. By the whispered tones of the Imps in charge of him, whoever was coming for Rex was far from average.

Rex didn't fear pain. He'd been under extreme distress, physical, mental, and emotional, before. He hadn't broken then. He wouldn't break now.

Finally, the door slid open, and a tall, dark figure swept in. Its head was covered in a helmet that hid any trace of humanity. The sound of rasping breathing accompanied it, as if each breath was forced in and out of the thing's body. It stared at Rex, and Rex was so transfixed by its blank stare that he almost didn't notice the thing's companion.

A clone, holding his black helmet at his side, with greying hair and a wandering scar down the left side of his face.

Rex's breath caught.

"Cody? " He asked.

He didn't need it confirmed. It was Cody. Rex could never forget his ori'vod's face.

It seemed that Cody had forgotten Rex. He looked Rex over with a blank stare. His chip was still active.

"Captain Rex." The dark figure said in a deep, robotic voice that nudged something in Rex's memory. "You were listed as killed in action."

"Well," Rex said, though he could not tear his eyes from Cody's face. "Reports can be wrong."

"Yes." The figure said. "It seems so. Which leads me to believe that others that were believed dead may yet be alive."

Rex tried not to let his fear show in his face. He knew who this man wanted.

"Tell me." The figure stepped forward. "Where is Ahsoka Tano?"

Rex managed to look away from his brother and into the figure's helmeted face.

"Ahsoka Tano is dead." He said with as much conviction as he could muster.

"I see." The figure said. "Commander, you may begin."

"Yes, Lord Vader." Cody said.

In a fluid movement he withdrew an electrostaff and slammed it into Rex's side. Rex hissed through his teeth as he felt ribs break. Then the electricity began coursing through his body in burning waves. Rex’s jaw clenched involuntarily, keeping him from making much noise.

Rex fell limp as Cody finally drew the staff away.

"Where is Ahsoka Tano?" Vader asked again.

Rex struggled to lift his head.

"She's dead." He said.

Vader stared at him for a long time before turning to Cody.

"Continue."

Ahsoka stole through the halls of the Imperial facility. Rex was here somewhere. At least, that’s what she prayed. The chances of him surviving at the hands of the Imperials seven days were-

Ahsoka refused to let herself dwell on it.

She paused at a corner when she heard the idle chatter of two TK troopers nearby.

"I wish Lord Vader would hurry up and kill the wretch." One complained. "Patrolling the detention level is becoming a real pain."

"Gives me a headache." The other grumbled. "Judging by its screams, I doubt it can last much longer."

Ahsoka's heart quickened. He was alive. She waited for the troopers to move past and quickly made her way to the nearest lift. The Force guided her hands to hit level B3.

The lift opened and Ahsoka felt sick. Rex's screams were echoing throughout the hallway. There was something else; whatever was torturing him was a Force user. A powerful and Dark one at that.

Ahsoka grit her teeth. There went her plan to go in sabers blazing. She edged closer to the area from which Rex's noises of distress were coming from. Soon she could make out words.

" SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S DEAD!" Rex was screaming.

So that's what they wanted to know. Ahsoka tried to reach for Rex's mind, but it was saturated with pain, oblivious to everything but the torture being inflicted on him.

Ahsoka found a storage closet adjacent to the room Rex was in. She would have to wait this out, no matter how badly she wanted to stop Rex's tormentors.

After a while Rex's screams turned to sobs, and the words he said changed.

" Kote, vod, gedet'ye!"

Cody, brother, please.

Ahsoka's heart clenched as she translated the words in her head. He was calling for Cody. She prayed that he was seeing some delusion, and that Cody was not playing a part in his torture.

His sobs began to fade. Ahsoka pressed a montral to the wall. A door opened and shut. Ahsoka waited a minute before unsheathing her sabers. She drew them in a circle in the wall and forced the cut section forward. The room she stepped into was overly bright. The floor was tacky and pinkish. Ahsoka swallowed bile before looking at the back of the room.

Rex was twisted around a metal frame, forced into what looked like an excruciating position. He was mostly naked, save for his grey undershorts. It seemed there wasn't a bit of skin that wasn't bruised, burned, or cut. Blood ran in dribbles from fresh slashes on his chest. He didn't look up as she approached him. His head lolled forwards.

" She's dead. " He whispered through chapped lips. " Kote, gedet'ye, she's dead. "

Ahsoka shook herself and wasted no more time in releasing him from his bindings. He'd lost weight in the few days he'd been here, and Ahsoka easily lifted him. A soft groan escaped him as she shouldered most of his weight.

"It's okay, Rex." Ahsoka promised him. "It's over now."

It would be. Even if they were caught, the answer the Imperials wanted was given by her presence. There would be no need to continue his interrogations.

Of course, they could always use him against her.

She quickly scanned near her. There was one guard nearby. The dark presence was getting further away.

Ahsoka set Rex down before slipping out the door. The startled guard didn't have time to make a noise before Ahsoka slammed him against the wall. He crumpled. Ahsoka retrieved Rex and started their painfully slow way down the corridor.

Rex occasionally made soft noises of pain as she jostled him. They got to the turbolift with no incidents. Ahsoka could sense the guards on the level on which her stolen Imperial shuttle was docked. There weren’t many, and by some miracle of the Force she managed to get Rex to the hangar without being seen. He let out a pitiful groan as she quickened her pace.

"I'm sorry." Ahsoka whispered. "We're almost out. Just-"

The dark presence suddenly reappeared, looming between them and the shuttle.

Ahsoka had no time, not with Rex's dead weight, to move before the man to which the presence belonged stepped from behind another ship. If it could be called a man. It seemed more like a droid.

"Ahsoka Tano." It said. "Captain Rex has become a more convincing liar. I almost believed him when he said you were dead."

Ahsoka tensed. She would not leave Rex. But she didn't see a way out of this.

"Something I'm sure you're eager to rectify." Ahsoka spat.

"There is a way for you to survive. For you both to survive." It said. "Join the Empire and you will both live."

"And become whatever you are? No." Ahsoka said.

The figure did not immediately attack.

"You think this path leads to anything else?" It asked. "Your attachment to the clone is far too deep."

"I'm sure it was only attachment that made you fall." Ahsoka said.

Her mind raced. What could she do? She would not leave Rex, but she couldn’t move quickly with his weight. And this thing was powerful .

"I see that you are resolved." The thing said. "Then I offer you this. Surrender, and I will give you both painless deaths."

For half a moment Ahsoka was tempted. Rex's pain was saturating the Force. She didn't want him to hurt anymore. And she saw no way out.

Her hesitation was seen as a refusal. The thing reached out a clawed hand. Ahsoka tensed, but nothing touched her. Rex, on the other hand, stiffened. Ahsoka nearly dropped him as he struggled for air.

"No!" Ahsoka said. "I didn't-"

A blaster shot rang through the hangar. The thing whirled to the side and deflected it with a hand. Rex relaxed.

Ahsoka only paused long enough to see a familiar clone pointing a blaster at the thing. She drew upon the Force and darted forward, past the figure who was concerned with blocking the barrage of blaster fire raining down on it.

"No more!" She heard Cody shout. " No more! "

She reached out briefly to try to connect with Cody and found a shattered mind. Whatever they had done to Rex had been too much for him.

Ahsoka dragged Rex the last few feet to the shuttle.

"Now, R-7!" She shouted.

The shuttle's door began to rise. Right before it shut, Ahsoka saw the Dark creature shear through Cody's chest with a blood red blade.

There was no med bay in the Imperial shuttle, so Ahsoka had to lay Rex on a clean sheet in the middle of the passenger bay. It had taken nearly two hours to dress Rex's injuries. Ahsoka had to set his broken fingers, wrap his ribs, and put bacta on every burn and laceration. He began to stir as she was finishing wrapping the cut up soles of his feet.

He groaned as he shifted, eyes opening to a slit.

"'Soka." He mumbled.

He struggled to lift himself.

"Shhh." Ahsoka said, gently easing himself back down. "Lie still."

She began running her fingers through his short hair in a hopefully soothing manner. He closed his eyes again and his head sagged to the side.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Hurts." He slurred.

Ahsoka frowned. She already had him on pretty heavy painkillers. She couldn't give him more, but she hated that he was still in pain.

She continued to massage his head. She hoped he was heading back to sleep.

"Cody?" He asked.

Ahsoka felt sick at his hopeful tone.

"I'm so sorry, Rex." She said. "He didn't make it."

Rex didn't say anything at first. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Was it-" He struggled to form the words. "You?"

Ahsoka moved her hand to the side of his face.

"That thing killed him." Ahsoka said. "He died so we could escape."

Rex squeezed his eyes shut. The agony that warped the Force around him deepened. He turned his head away from her, a tear tracing down his cheek.

“No more.” He muttered. “ No more. ”

Check it out and my other Rexsoka Fics on A03!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34125910/chapters/85234081

https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExecutiveCucumber/works

[renegadeontherunn]

angstpril day 11: collision

I’m using the alternate prompt: so close, yet so far for today! hmm yes have some early Ahsoka & Anakin arguments. maybe poor communication is a lineage thing. 

“—and then saber practice at noon.”

Ahsoka picked at her toast, head resting on one fist. “Okay,” she said.

“I think we should hold off on starting your new classes until we’re finished with our next assignment in a couple days.” Anakin poured himself more water, and repositioned himself where he was sitting on the counter. “That way you can start fresh when we get back.”

“Master Drallig said I should start right away.”

“No, you shouldn’t.”

Ahsoka gritted her teeth. “That’s just what he said. I don’t know.”

“No, this way’s better.”

She held back a sigh. “Okay.” 

“Oh, and I know Thursdays are takeout-night, but I’ve got a meeting with Senator Amidala.” He looked away. “Important stuff, you know how it is.”

Ahsoka stopped herself from yelling. What? But you promised! And you missed the last three takeout nights! And we were supposed to get ice cream to celebrate me finishing this rotation of classes. But all she said was, “Okay.”

Anakin hopped down from the counter. “Do you want to meet at the training rooms or here?”

“We can meet there,” Ahsoka said, voice bland. She put her plate in the sink.

“Okay,” Anakin said shortly. “See you at noon, then.” He stepped toward the door. 

Ahsoka’s head whipped towards him. Was he mad? What for? “What?”

“What did I do?” he asked, but his face was stony. 

Worrying for a moment she’d misconstrued things, Ahsoka blurted out, “Oh. Nothing, I—” She stopped. The are you mad? hung from her lips.

Anakin left without another word. 

Ahsoka glared at the door. What was that? Had she done something? All she’d said was “Okay.” How was that wrong?

Whatever. She had a meditation session with Barriss that she was already late to. Ahsoka could worry about it later. It was probably nothing. They’d have saber practice at noon and everything would be back to normal. She’d just have to go to the refectory for dinner and eat there instead of on the couch with Dex’s takeout boxes littered around the room. 

But meditating with Barriss only set her further on edge. What was Anakin’s problem? Clearly he was mad about something, but Ahsoka didn’t know what and she was terrible at sussing those things out. She didn’t know him well enough yet to understand all his moods or subtle tells. Was he being passive aggressive? Or was she actually reading too much into things?

“What is it?” Barriss asked her softly. They were tucked away against some trees Ahsoka was pretty sure were from Kashyyyk. It was one of her favorite spots.

Ahsoka blinked her eyes open, abandoning her pretense of perfect meditating Padawan. “Nothing, just—Master Skywalker and I are in some weird potential fight thing. I think. Maybe.”

Barriss looked highly confused. “Have you spoken to him about it?”

Ahsoka shrugged, not really in the mood to discuss it. It would take too much energy to recount the situation that morning and she doubted she could articulate the full experience. Barriss would probably just tell her to talk to him or maybe that it was something she’d done. And Ahsoka certainly wasn’t in the mood to hear that. Whatever, she thought again. It was fine.

But by the time saber practice rolled around, Ahsoka still hadn’t decided whether she wanted things to blow over or if she wanted to fight it out after all. She groaned as she entered the training rooms. Fight what out? What were they even meant to be arguing about?

Anakin’s face was pinched when she walked in. Great. So it looked like they were fighting it out.

“What?” she asked without preamble. Best not to beat around the bush.

“What?” Anakin repeated. “Why are you always asking me that?”

Ahsoka’s head jerked back. “Asking you what?”

Anakin brushed a stray hair out of his face. “I can’t do anything without you thinking I’m mad. It’s like I can’t even talk to you.”

“What? When has that ever happened?”

Anakin scoffed. “I don’t have a running list. But it has. I have necessary duties, Ahsoka, ones that don’t always involve you.”

Ahsoka frowned, hating the tone he was taking with her. She wasn’t some stupid crechling. “I know that.”

“So what’s your deal?” He looked at her at last. “Is takeout night really that important to you? Cause maybe this meeting is important to me.” 

Ahsoka’s mouth dropped open. “What is your problem? I don’t care about takeout night or even that we were supposed to be celebrating.” She ignored that the room had grown silent even as she felt everyone’s eyes on the two of them. “Or about your stupid meeting with a senator. Maybe I’d just like a Master who wasn’t so moody.”

Anakin’s eyebrows raised. “Excuse me?”

Feeling her pent-up frustration—the kind that was due to more than just Anakin—simmering on her tongue, Ahsoka continued. “You’re mad about something all the time. And I can never tell what it is because you refuse to communicate and you just—” No, no, no, don’t cry. You’re angry. You’re not upset. You’re angry. “You just swallow your words and cut off conversations and you’re just—ugh!” Ahsoka had a split second hesitation where she wondered if she was about to go too far, about to do the thing she’d gotten in trouble for so often as an Initiate: speaking without thinking, saying something she’d regret. “Do you even want a Padawan? Cause it certainly doesn’t seem like it! Are you even trying to be a good Master?”

Fuck. 

Anakin stared at her, his face deathly pale. 

Why couldn’t she have just kept her stupid, immature mouth shut? Force, she was such an idiot! 

Silence buzzed in Ahsoka’s ears.

No wonder it didn’t seem like he wanted a Padawan! Probably because he didn’t want this Padawan! Probably because the Padawan he did have was a failure to the entire Order! 

“I—” But she stopped. What could she possibly say after that?

Ahsoka blinked stinging tears out of her eyes and when her vision cleared, Anakin was gone.